


Belle et la Beatnik

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Dark City (1998), Mirrors (2008)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Background Femslash, Bartenders, Casual Sex, Cooking, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dating, Demisexuality, Flirting, Food, Food Porn, Friends to Lovers, M/M, May/December Relationship, Misunderstandings, Restaurants, UST, Wine, wine tasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5476289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After nearly 20 years in the industry, esteemed Bay Area chef Ben Carson finally earns his first Michelin star. It's an accomplishment... but he'd be happier if that damn hipster upstart down the road wasn't hot on his heels.<br/>What he doesn't know is that his younger brother is already dating their head bartender...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bonnie131313](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/gifts), [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts).



"How the hell did they get a rising star rating? They've been open two years! Two, Daniel!" Ben threw the newly printed Michelin guide down on his desk in the back office in disgust.

Daniel knew without looking what he was talking about. _Experimental_.

"Don't think about them," Daniel said gently. "Tonight is about your star, Ben."

"Exactly. And Michelin wouldn't have even bothered to review them if they weren't nearby," Ben insisted, folding his arms across his chest. The strength of his glare could have caught the book on fire.

Daniel sighed, getting up and rounding the desk to press himself against his brother's back, wrapping his arms around his waist. Ben had been in the business for nearly twenty years, studied in Paris, and worked under some of the most accomplished chefs in the Bay Area before finally opening _La Pâquerette_ six years ago. The fact that the restaurant was even still open in the highly competitive and tumultuous dining scene was an achievement in and of itself; having both the staying power and consistent quality required to rank a Michelin star was nothing to sniff at. But getting to this point had meant unwavering dedication. In Ben's case, it had cost him his marriage and family.

"I know how hard you've worked for this," he said quietly, soothingly. "A Michelin rating is about your work. It's not a competition, you know that. Them being a rising star doesn't make your star worth any less. You're more deserving of this than any restaurant I've ever met. Comparing Experimental with _La Pâquerette_ is like apples and oranges. Sekai Ichi Apples and regular old navels."

Ben sighed, leaning back into him, and Daniel felt some of the tension leave his brother's body. "I know I'm being an idiot," he muttered gruffly. "It just... seems unfair."

Daniel pressed a soft kiss just below Ben's ear, then let go, stepping around to face him and taking his hands, gently uncrossing his arms. "What's really worrying you, _mein herz_?"

Ben glanced away, mouth twisting. "I don't know. I worry about a lot of things. I always worry about stagnating. You know what things are like in the Bay Area. I worry people will choose trendy over traditional. I worry that we won't be able to keep up our quality with the rush of business that'll come with the star. I worry more that people won't care."

"People will care," Daniel said softly, reaching up to cup his brother's face in his hands. "And your quality won't suffer. You've built a good team here. You know you can trust them. People don't go to Experimental to propose to their lovers. There will always be a place for restaurants like _La Pâquerette_."

Ben hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I know. I know. It just frustrates me." He stepped back, out of Daniel's embrace, rubbing a fist across his eyes. "I don't want to have to think about bullshit like image and demographic and whether or not we should be seen as 'trendy' or 'a member of the community'. I just want people to like my goddamn food."

"They do, Ben. People love your food. And if you're worried about being trendy, well... I can help with that."

Ben gave a soft groan. "I don't want shitty modern art in my restaurant."

Daniel barely managed to stifle a giggle. "Numerous galleries have asked to show at _La Pâquerette_. It doesn't have to be modern. We could do post-modern, contemporary - " at Ben's pained look he smiled. "Just trust me. I'll pick something worthy and complimentary to your restaurant. Then we get to cross-promote and our community involvement points go up. Trust me."

"I do, I do... I've just seen some really ugly art in restaurants, Daniel. Like that ridiculous Batman themed piece at Experimental..."

"So you have been inside!"

"I had to check out the competition," Ben shot back, frowning. "Their house cocktails are really impressive."

"They are. And you have a Master Sommelier as a business partner. That's nothing to sniff at."

"Thank god for Frank," Ben muttered, an opinion Daniel was inclined to agree on. It wasn't that Ben couldn't manage the restaurant, of course. But he knew his brother. Left to his own devices, Ben would try and do everything himself and run himself into the ground. He certainly wouldn't have been able to concentrate on the kitchen enough to earn the Michelin star. And if Daniel still felt quietly proud for being the one to arrange the partnership between his brother and his former flame that had lead to the joint purchase of the restaurant, well... he'd certainly earned the right to feel that way.

"We could invest in a master bartender too, you know," he pointed out. "It would be a good idea, with the rooftop section opening."

"You dating one of those?" Ben asked with a smirk, and Daniel was too happy to see his brother's mood lighten to complain about being teased.

"I know a lot of men that I haven't dated," he shot back with a mock pout, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that the man he was thinking of had indeed shared his bed on more than a few occasions.

"Mmhmm," Ben replied, clearly not convinced. He wrapped an arm around Daniel's shoulders and pulled him into a hug, pressing a brief, chaste kiss to his lips. "Thanks, _liebling_. Sorry I'm such a moody asshole."

"You are no such thing," Daniel replied, returning the hug before stepping back. "Now come out and celebrate with your staff. We only have an hour before we open for lunch service, and Frank's been waiting for you to pop the cork on the first bottle of champagne."

"Has he? Damn." Ben pulled on his chef's jacket, buttoning it quickly, then grabbed the previously-abused copy of the bay-area Michelin guide. Daniel followed him into the main dining room, where a spontaneous cheer went up from the gathered kitchen and wait staff.

In front of his staff, there was no sign of Ben's previous disgruntlement. He smiled widely at his staff, joining Frank at one of the tables. "Sorry guys, I didn't think you were waiting for me to break out the bubbly."

"It's your star," Frank replied, handing him a bottle of Ruinart - one of their staple, mid-range champagnes - that he'd already taken the foil off of. "You pop the cork."

"Everyone here helped earn this star," Ben replied, shaking his head. "Everyone in the kitchen has worked extremely hard for this, being able to turn out the consistent quality needed for a star is an incredible achievement. And Michelin wouldn't even look at us if our front-of-house didn't have such a good reputation for service."

His Sous Chef, May, laughed, patting him on the back. "And here I thought I'd have to force you to make a speech."

Ben chuckled, working the cork almost out, then giving the bottle a couple of shakes, raising it high. "To _La Pâquerette's_ first Michelin star and the best damn restaurant team in the Bay Area," he proclaimed, popping the cork to let the champagne bubble out of the bottle and into the grid of champagne flutes below.

~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

"Jesus Christ, Hils." Larry Byrne stared at their reservation system over his head chef's shoulder.

"I know." Hillary Becker shook his head slowly. "And it's like this for three weeks after this. We're never booked solid that far out. Do you think it's a glitch in the system?"

"I don't know. Check the back end in Open Table." He watched Becker hit the bookmark for the page, tapping his fingers against the dark granite of the bar top as the restaurant profile for Experimental loaded. Then he froze, staring. "Jesus Christ."

Becker seemed likewise flabbergasted. "... Is that right? That's not right."

Shaking his head slowly, Larry looked behind the bar, turning the screen around. "Anna. What. The fuck."

"Hmm?" His bartender put down the wine glass she was polishing, tucking a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. She glanced at the screen and did a double take. "Holy shit, Larry. "Rising Star" means they think you're on track for a Michelin rating!"

"I know what it means. But what the fuck? I haven't even been going for a Michelin rating, I - we're not that kind of restaurant!"

Anna shrugged. "The guide isn't all posh French food. There been a lot of buzz about this place online, you know."

"Only because John's addicted to twitter."

"Still. Maybe the Michelin reviewer saw out Yelp rating and decided to swing by after reviewing that French place down the street. I hear they've been gunning hard for a star."

"Did they get it?" Larry ran a search on Open Table and have a sigh of relief. He'd never met the executive chef at _La Pâquerette_ , but he'd heard nothing but admirable things about the man's restaurant. The last thing he wanted was to steal someone else's thunder with something he hadn't even been trying for. "Thank god."

"We need champagne," Anna declared, opening one of the bar fridges and pulling out a bottle.

"We need to not drink the stock," Larry said quickly. "Anna, we're booked solid for almost the whole fucking month. How the hell are we gonna handle this? Are people going to be lined up to eat at the fucking bar? What about our regulars?"

"What about our regulars?" John appeared from the basement, a milk crate full of liquor bottles on his shoulder. "Everything okay?"

Anna, who had gone back to polishing the glassware, grinned. "We made the Michelin guide."

"You shitting me?" John set the crate down on the bar, then pulled Larry into a hug, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Dude that's incredible. What did they say about us?"

"I...." Larry looked suddenly even more bewildered. "I don't know?"

Becker turned the screen back to him and made a couple clicks. "Here. Come see."

* * *

##  Experimental 

**Address :** 328 Valencia St. USA - San Francisco  
**Phone :** (628) 555-1269  
**Website : http://www.experimentalfoodsf.com**

**Cuisine Gastropub**

### $25 to $50

_While Experimental may at first glance seem to be just another trendy San Francisco gastropub built on style over substance, the menu speaks otherwise. Stylish young professionals flock to this converted warehouse to socialize in the first floor supper bar, or sit for a more traditional dining experience in the second floor dining room. Experimental lives up to its name, providing standard gastropub fare with a sophisticated twist, and an adventurous cocktail menu that is truly inspired even in the competitive San Francisco landscape. Top quality local ingredients are skillfully presented with punchy world flavors, unusual combinations, and clever deviations. The curried pork belly presents a perfect union of sweet and spicy with melt-in-your-mouth tenderness, and the rest of the menu shines with everything from tuna and ume ceviche in a mason jar with crunchy homemade daikon chips for dipping to popcorn duck, a large selection of perfectly roasted skewers, and creamy bisques._

 

* * *

"They liked my cocktails!" John exclaimed, delighted.

"Guess we're going to have to make the pork belly a permanent feature," Becker mused.

"We're gonna run out," Larry shot back, and raked a hand through his hair. "Fuck me. I'm not ready for this."

"Lar. We'll be fine." John wrapped an arm around his friend's waist and gave him a squeeze. "You know Anna and I will be here as much as you need us to be. The serving staff'll be excited to get 40 hours. I'll bring in an extra busser and call back those other two we liked for the server position to see if they're still available. Hell, we can even do overtime if we need to. Hils, how's the kitchen staff?"

Becker leaned against the bar, pondering. "Should bump Odi up to Grill full time with Connor, he's been really consistent. That'll let Sarah focus on the Saute station. I'll call Lester and see if he can recommend one of his recent grads to take over the fryer and work Salads. Should be fine as long as you and I both keep an eye on things. Maybe bring in a limited term dishwasher?"

Though he still looked rather overwhelmed, Larry nodded slowly. "Yeah, let's ramp up. Need someone else in the kitchen anyway. See if any of the kids will come in early today to help prep, yeah? Can you reforecast for a hundred an hour during peak and put in an order for Friday? Booze too, Anna. Call someone in to take over on the glassware and help work the lunch rush."

"See?" John smiled, giving another squeeze. "We'll be fine. I'll go start on the paperwork for those servers."

Larry shook his head. "Come do a market run with me. Can't afford to run out of essentials tonight."

"Bring back some cheap champagne, too," Anna told them. "There's no way I'm letting you get away with not celebrating."

"We'll bring back some champagne," Larry agreed, and started out the back with John following.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when John's hand slid up his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot. He shot his head bartender a look.

"What?" John's smile could have fooled angels, even if the press of his palm against Larry's cock couldn't. "We _are_ taking a pit stop at home, aren't we? We need to celebrate."

"We're going to the market," Larry replied, and tried to resist the urge to press his hips into the teasing stimulation.

"Home's close. Won't take long. And you'll be way less tense for lunch service." John leaned closer. "Or I could just blow you in the car...."

"Not in the middle of the city," Larry replied, and firmly pushed his hand away.

"Aw, come on, Lar...." John gave an exaggerated pout. "I've been single for almost a week and you haven't taken advantage of it. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a cock in this ass? James was such a wimpy little bottom...."

"Slut," Larry muttered, but turned the wheel towards home.

It wasn't that he lived with John for the sex. He liked the easy warmth of having someone else in his space, and keeping his costs down meant more money toward paying down the start up debts for Experimental. He and John had dated for a while when they first met, of course, back when Larry was still just a line cook. It was easier to date someone in the industry who'd be more understanding of the hours. But they hadn't really progressed past a lot of casual sex. Perhaps it might have, if they'd been older, but John was just into his twenties, six years his junior, and the last thing Larry wanted was to tie him down when there was an entire city to fuck. When they'd moved in together a few years later it was as friends and roommates only, bringing home other men far more often than they ended up in bed with each other, despite the convenience of it. Still, John knew him better than perhaps anyone else in the world, and Larry was grateful for his friendship.

Lately both their lives had cooled down quite a bit... John was far more interested in pursuing something lasting, and Larry fully expected that he'd find someone and end up moving out to settle down within a year or so. Other than the occasional hookup, Larry hadn't really bothered much since his last breakup over a year ago. It just seemed more and more that dating wasn't worth the effort put into it. Easier to focus on the restaurant without some clingy boyfriend whining about the amount of time he spent at work. But when John was single, well... they'd certainly never stopped being very sexually compatible.

"You will fuck me, right?" John pressed up against his back as Larry unlocked the door, sliding a hand around his waist to cup his cock. "No one fucks like you do, Lar...."

"Flatterer." Larry pulled him into the apartment after him, turning to press him up against the door and claim his mouth in a hard kiss. Now that he'd given into the idea his libido was completely with the plan, and he slid his hands down John's back to grab his ass, pulling him closer. The little needy whine John made as his hips rolled up against him was incredibly gratifying, John's fingers tangling in the back of his hair. It was easy, being with John. Knowing what was expected of him, knowing how they fit together, trading kisses that were quickly becoming more and more desperate. By the time John wiggled out from between him and the door Larry was panting and achingly hard.

"My room," John hissed, grabbing the front of his pants to tow him through the apartment. He let go of Larry's pants long enough to grab a towel off the back of his bedroom door and toss it down on the bed, shedding his own jacket and pulling his shirt off. Then he gave Larry a smirk and sank down to his knees, pulling open his jeans with practiced quickness and taking his cock in his mouth.

"Fuck - !" Larry drew a sharp hiss, tangling his fingers in his hair. "I thought this was supposed to be a quick pit stop?"

"Mmhmm," John replied, groaning around him as his lips slid down his shaft. He pulled open his own pants, fisting his cock slowly as he continued to lavish attention on Larry's. He pulled back to nuzzle his shaft, placing wet kisses and licks along the length of him. "Just thought you deserved a bit of proper congratulations, Mister Michelin rated Executive Chef."

"Mister Michelin rated Executive Chef wants to plow your cheeky little ass into the bed," Larry retorted, groaning nevertheless as John took him in his mouth again, swallowing him deep into his throat. His hips gave a little buck into the wet bliss of his mouth despite himself, fingers tightening in his hair. Then he forced himself to pull back, ignoring John's whine. "Seriously, green eyes, if you want me to last long enough to fuck you...."

"Okay, okay..." John shucked his pants and climbed up onto the bed, yanking open a bedside drawer to pull out supplies. Before Larry had even gotten the rest of his clothes off John had slicked two fingers and reached back to work them into himself, leaning on one forearm on the bed with his ass in the air. "Fuck, Lar, it's been so long...."

Larry chuckled, shaking his head, and grabbed a condom out of the drawer to roll it on. "The things you say to turn me on...."

"It's true," John replied, whining as Larry slid one slick finger into him alongside his own. "Oh fuck, Lar. Fuck me, I'm so ready for it, god please...."

"You're always ready for it," Larry growled, giving his ass a teasing smack. Then he pulled John's fingers away, pressing the head of his cock against his hole, teasing and rubbing against him just to hear John's desperate whine.

"Oh god yes, Larry please, fuck, don't tease! I - "

"But you sound so pretty when you beg," Larry replied, then finally pressed inside him, burying himself to the hilt with a few insistent thrusts. He drew a sharp hiss at the tight, slick heat of John's ass around his cock. "Fuck, you are tight...."

"Told you," John gasped, grinding his ass back against his hips. "Oh fuck yeah, you have no idea how good this feels...!"

He knew well how John liked it, how he wanted to be fucked hard and fast. And there really wasn't any other option at the moment, not when the long day ahead of them had unexpectedly grown so much longer. But he couldn't help but hold off for a moment, holding John's hips tightly, drawing back almost completely before filling him again with a hard thrust. It had been far too long, he couldn't help but think, doing it again just to revel in the tight squeeze of his ass as he slid into him.

"Oh fuck - !" John shuddered under him, fighting against his grasp and trying to buck against him. "Harder, fuck, come on Lar!"

"Pushy little bottom." Larry gave his ass a hard smack, then picked up the pace, breath coming harder. "Almost forgot how good fucking you is."

John gave a breathless laugh, easily falling into rhythm with him. "I know, right?" He started to move harder, giving a needy whine that turned into a cry as his ass started smacking against Larry's hips. "Oh fuck yeah!"

As much as Larry wanted to respond, things quickly grew far too intense for speech. Instead he bent over John to lean on his arms and let him have it, hard and fast and rough until John was wailing with every thrust. His friend wrapped his fingers around his own cock, jerking himself desperately, clenching and shuddering around Larry's cock and pulling him along as he came. Larry buried himself deep with a few more hard, stuttering thrusts, coming deep inside him and thinking nothing except for how very glad he was that he'd let John talk him into this.

"Let's do this again tonight," John breathed as they were coming down. "Fuck, Lar, that was so good...."

John wouldn't rebound for long, Larry knew. Despite his play at sluttiness, he was at his core a romantic, and it wouldn't take long for cupid's arrows to find his friend's heart again. But Larry had gone without sex for far too long already... he'd almost forgotten how gratifying it was to completely own someone's pleasure like this. It wouldn't hurt to take advantage of this while it lasted.

"We'll see how you feel after service," he replied, kissing the back of John's neck before pulling away. "Now let's get our stuff in gear. This is gonna be a hell of a long couple of weeks."

~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel recruits a Master Bartender.

"Mmm... I could stay here all day."

Leon Husselbeck gave a soft, appreciative hum at the thought, nuzzling a kiss along Daniel's jaw. He hadn't talked to Daniel for months other than a few random messages on facebook. When his friend had showed up at the bar the night before shortly before closing he'd been surprised, but happy. Daniel was a playful and ardent lover for a no-strings-attached fling, and had an amazing cock to boot. Leon had taken full advantage of the situation after he'd finally gotten away from work, mixing a pair of cocktails for them in his apartment which quickly lead to tipsy, toe-curlingly good sex. Doing it again when he'd woken up was even better. "I could too... if I didn't have to go into work for 10am."

He watched his most recent lover's well-shaped lips purse in displeasure. "You were there 'till almost 3am last night."

"Yeah, well...." Leon turned to lay on his back, wrinkling his nose as he thought about it. In bed naked with Daniel, sated and aching deliciously from Very Good Sex, work was the last thing he wanted to think about. "Shit has to get done."

"Leon...." Daniel was silent for a long moment, then sighed. "You know, even for the restaurant industry, the hours you work are ridiculous. When was the last time you had a day off?"

"I know... but it's family, you know? I leave Uncle Joe's and mom's never going to let me hear the end of it."

"Your mom should understand that you're being vastly overworked."

Leon glanced over at him. "My mom worked sixteen hour days as a server at two different restaurants to save up enough money for school. She won't."

Daniel shifted to prop himself up on one elbow, stroking his fingers idly over Leon's chest. "You're wasted on that place, you know. You didn't slave through that Master Mixologist program just to waste your time in a bullshit top forty frat house, pouring tequila shots and vodka paralyzers all night for goddamn Marina girls spending daddy's money doing cocaine in the bathroom."

"Yeah, well.... don't know if I could get in anywhere else and earn the same kind of money. Everyone and their dog thinks they can make cocktails these days."

Daniel's fingers smoothed lower, teasing idly above his bellybutton. "... or you could come work for Ben."

Leon snorted. "What the hell would I do in some high class French restaurant? Your brother's partner is a master sommelier."

"He is, and Frank is very good at what he does. But the cocktail menu is a weak point. Ben's opening the rooftop now instead of waiting until spring. Then we go into the holiday rush. We can't just try and train someone up and hope for the best. And I daresay neither your uncle or your mother could fault you for taking a position as head bartender at a Michelin star restaurant."

Leon chuckled softly, turning into him and arching up for a kiss, stroking a hand around Daniel's waist. ".... are you trying to seduce me into working for your brother?"

"I already seduced you." Daniel was calmly logical. "I'm inviting you to come work for my brother."

"And using sex to butter me up."

Daniel kissed him again, smiling against his mouth. "I'm using sex because I enjoy going to bed with you. And I think you should come work for my brother."

It was difficult to think about arguing with his reasoning, especially when Daniel was smoothing a hand over his ass to pull him closer. "I don't know, Daniel...."

"Just come see the restaurant," Daniel murmured, starting to trail slow kisses along his jaw. "Forget about going into work at 10am... come to _La Pâquerette_ with me after the lunch rush and meet Ben. Just come see what you think."

Leon tilted his head back with a soft moan as Daniel nipped at his throat. He urged the other man on top of him, wrapping one leg up around his hips, pressing his reawakened cock to Daniel's thigh. "And if I do that, I conveniently have more free time this morning...."

Daniel pulled back to give him a wicked grin. "Sounds like a win win to me."

* * *

Was he just going along with this because of the sex? Leon couldn't help but wonder as Daniel drove them to the restaurant. But Daniel was right about a lot of things. The thought of working for his uncle for the next ten years or more was somewhat nauseating. But that was exactly where he was headed. Plus, the prestige of getting in with Michelin restaurant... even if he didn't like it, if he stayed with them long enough to set them up with a good custom cocktail menu and train up a few other bartenders to execute it properly, well... it would certainly look nice on a resume.

So he followed Daniel into the back entrance of the restaurant and tried not to feel nervous.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity, recovering from the lunch rush. But it was large and looked well kept, bright and clean. "Ben in his office?" Daniel asked a pretty blonde girl as she passed.

The girl stopped, turning to give them both a smile. "You kidding? He hasn't sat down in three days. He's downstairs with Frank going over inventory. Hey, make sure he eats something, okay?"

"I will, as long as you do too," Daniel replied, steering Leon through a door and down a set of narrow stairs. "That's May, she's Ben's sous chef. She was one of the senior line chefs when he worked at Bouchon, she's been here since we opened."

Daniel took him past a number of cases of beer and a glass-front fridge stocked full of them, then through another door into what proved to be the wine cellar. "Ben?"

"Over here!"

Leon tried not to stare at the huge wine racks, arranged by varietal, the shelves marked with small white labels with neat handwriting. Rounding a rack, he came face to face with an older, broader version of Daniel, his blonde hair cut functionally short, blue eyes kind. He smiled. "Leon? Daniel's told me a lot about you. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Leon replied, taking his hand for a brief, firm handshake. "I hope it's all been...." accurate, he wanted to say, and bit his tongue. "Good things."

Ben nodded. "Good education, USBG member, good background in several different notable restaurants in the city. He says you have a gift for creating superb flavour combinations."

Leon laughed, shaking his head. "It's just training, just a lot of time getting to know what things work best together."

"A bit like cooking, then. I need someone to take over the bartending side of things here. Are you interested?"

The offer was unexpectedly sudden, despite Daniel's earlier invitation. "I - um, are you sure? You haven't even tried my work...."

Ben chuckled. "My brother's never steered me wrong before, I trust his judgement. But if you'd like to mix me a drink I won't say no." He leaned back to turn his attention to someone on the other side of the rack. "Come have a drink?"

"I'll follow you up, just let me finish this." replied a man Leon couldn't see.

Leon followed Daniel as he turned and started out, taking him past the washrooms and up the main, customer stairs. He couldn't help but think the man in the cellar had a rather sexy voice. "Who was that?"

"My partner, Frank Bumstead. Master sommelier. Daniel set us up, too."

He had to bite his tongue on asking Daniel if he'd employed similar methods.

The bar upstairs was half the size of the main bar in his uncle's place, but a good size for a restaurant. Two people could work it with ease - three, if they didn't mind bumping elbows once and awhile. They had a decent selection of the standards, though Leon was already making a list of things in his head to order before he started on the cocktail menu. He looked to Ben, who perched on one of the bar stools on the other side, Daniel beside him. "What kind of flavours do you prefer? Boozy, smoky, sweet? Fruity? Herby?"

"Boozy. Maybe with a bit of sweetness. I'm not fond of Tequila."

"Thank god. You have no idea how many tequila shots I've been forced to pour in the past three years." Leon laid out a bar towel, finding the tools he needed. They had a particularly nice, old spiced whiskey, he'd build something around that. "Can I raid your kitchen?"

Ben nodded. "Just ask May if you can't find anything."

"Thanks. Daniel, you want one too?"

"Split it between the two of us, if that's alright." Ben responded. "I shouldn't drink much."

"Make it three," said a voice, and as Leon glanced over to the source of the voice he felt his mouth go dry. Even if he hadn't heard him speak in the wine cellar, it would have been immediately apparent that this man was the restaurant's Master Sommelier and co-owner. He wore a high-end suit perfectly tailored to his tall frame, his shoulders deliciously broad without being bulky. He looked dignified, Leon thought, then quickly revised his opinion as the man gave him a small, polite smile and a nod. No, distinguished. And handsome, which was something of a rarity, in Leon's opinion. He'd dated plenty of men who could be called hot, good looking, or even beautiful. But this man was dazzlingly handsome, and the gray in his mid-brown hair and the soft lines around his mouth only made him more so.

"Frank Bumstead," he said, offering his hand as he reached the others. "Sorry, I was tied up downstairs."

Leon pulled himself together and took the offered hand with a smile, shaking his head. "It's fine, I've just been, um, looking for things. Taking stock of the bar. I'm Leon. Husselbeck." Then, trying remember what the fuck he'd been planning, he filled three cocktail glasses with ice to chill, then retreated to the kitchen, mentally cursing himself for falling all over his words like an idiot.

Thankfully it was easy to find what he needed, and he returned with an orange and a small piece of ginger root - even though the whiskey was spiced, the ginger was an extra kick of interest. He threw a few thin slices in the bottom of a double rocks glass and muddled it with a generous portion of orange peel..

Grabbing the bottle of vermouth, he poured a splash into another glass, taking a small sip and trying not to pull a face. "Uh. That's done. Vermouth needs to be refrigerated, this is...."

"Just turf it," Ben said, nodding towards the garbage. "Sorry, our last head bartender was...." he shrugged. "We bumped one of our servers up to the bar, but we've really only been offering highballs. She needs training."

Leon nodded, reformulating. "Do you have a dry white table wine I can use?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Not anything that tastes like Vermouth."

"It's fine, it just needs to be dry. I'll work with it."

Frank nodded towards the rack that took up half the wall behind the bar. "Open a bottle of the 2013 Steve Kent Sauvignon Blanc."

Tasting a splash, Leon found it better than he expected, dry with spicy afternotes. He added a shot to the glass, then two of the whiskey, talking as he did so. "A lot of places in town like to make really complicated house cocktails. It's pretentious. Anything more than five or six ingredients and it's extremely hard to balance the flavour profile. But if you take a classic drink and modify it, it resonates. People are drawn to the familiar and excited by the new." 

Quarter shots of Creme de Cassis and Amer Picon - something he was a little surprised they carried - and a splash of orange bitters completed the combination. He added ice, stirred liberally, then grabbed a straw to sample it, putting his thumb on the end to catch a tiny portion and drop it in his mouth. He added a few more drops of bitters, then dumped the ice from the cocktail glasses and strained the drink into equal portions, adding an artful curl of orange peel and setting each on a drink napkin on the bar top for them. "I've been calling it a 'Brooklyn Speakeasy'."

Ben took a sip, then made a little interested sound and took another. Frank seemed more contemplative, rolling the drink around in his mouth before swallowing. "You don't worry about it being too complex to make and holding up service?"

Leon shook his head. "If I was going to put it on a menu I'd make a simple syrup with the ginger and orange peel - mostly ginger, very little sugar. Could probably pre-mix the cassis and Amer Picon if the junior bartenders were really junior." What do you think, he wanted to say as Frank took another sip.

"It's a really complimentary flavour profile," Ben remarked, setting his glass down. "Makes me wish I hadn't agreed to share with these guys." He glanced to Frank. "What do you think?"

Nothing on Frank's face gave away what he thought of the drink. He looked to Leon. "Daniel said you're working for family. Why come here?"

Leon smiled. "With all due to respect to my uncle, I didn't pour so much into my education to spend my life pouring tequila shots in a top 40 club. And I won't pretend that the chance to work in a Michelin star restaurant isn't very alluring."

"It should be daunting," Frank replied. "We need an absolute commitment to quality and consistency for everything that comes out of this bar, whether you make it or someone else does. You'll set the menu. But you'll be responsible for maintaining the quality of anyone who works under you. Hiring, firing, whatever's needed. Are you up to that?"

Leon could help but think of the bleach blonde "bar babes" his uncle hired, and felt a sigh of relief. "Frank, if you let me control who works for me then I guarantee I will build a team worthy to work in this fine establishment."

"Perfect." Ben turned to Daniel. "Let's get a promo insert printed for the wine menus. Work with Leon, put on this drink and maybe one more, and some of the traditional french aperitifs - Lillet, Byrrh, a couple Kir variations. A couple of by-the-glass champagne options. Nothing too difficult to make. Leon, once you have Kaylee trained and your new hire up to snuff we'll develop a full cocktail menu. That work for you?"

Leon could help but feel a buzz of excitement. "Sure."

"Great. How soon can you start?"

"I'll have to talk to my uncle, shouldn't be any later than Monday. I can come in during the day to start doing some training and recruiting?"

"Works for me. I have your paperwork in my office, come with me."

Following him into the back, Leon couldn't but think that if he already had paperwork drawn up then both he and Daniel must have been very certain not only that he'd accept the position but that he'd even agree to come in the first place. "You must really trust Daniel's judgement."

"Implicitly." Ben handed him a manilla envelope, giving a nod towards it. "Compensation and benefit information, I think you'll find it very competitive. 5% cost of living raise yearly in January, review based raises in April up to another five percent. Call me if you have any concerns, otherwise bring it back signed tomorrow."

Leon nodded, taking the package. "Thank you."

"One more thing..." Ben paused for a minute, glancing towards the door of his office, then lowered his voice. "I don't care about whatever you have with Daniel -"

"It's not anything serious," Leon replied quickly. "That's a mutual agreement."

Ben shook his head. "No, I genuinely don't care. Any other inter-office relationship needs to be disclosed, though. And no direct reporting relationships, so don't hire anyone you want to date."

Leon chuckled, and nodded. "Got it. Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate this. I won't let you down."

Ben nodded. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

"Cute kid. He'll be a good fit. He seemed a little nervous, though," Frank mused after Ben had taken Leon into the back. He was surprised when Daniel laughed.

"Only after you joined us," he said, and smirked.

Frank shook his head. "Why?"

Daniel hopped down off the bar stool, leaning in to give Frank a kiss on the cheek as he passed. "Because you're entirely his type, darling."

* * *

Being thrown into the chaos that was _La Pâquerette_ post Michelin rating was a trial by fire, but Leon found himself energized by the challenge. Plus, working with staff who were not only eager to learn but happy to be there instantly made for a supremely less stressful work environment, no matter how busy it got.

And if he perhaps entertained a few inappropriate thoughts about a certain handsome Master Sommelier doing dirty things to him in the wine cellar, well.... Nobody needed to know about that.

Just as long as he could manage to keep his composure around the other man....

Frank caught him beside the bar one morning as he was working on glassware. "Leon... the back of your jacket seems to be covered with... what appears to be glitter?"

"Damn, I thought they missed me." Leon frowned, swiping ineffectively at the shoulders of his jacket, then running his fingers through his hair.

"Missed you?"

"Some kind of BDSM street festival going on, people throwing glitter. Took me long enough to get through the crowd, I couldn't go home and change... will Ben kill me if I work in my shirt sleeves?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Do you make a habit of visiting BDSM festivals before work?"

"God, no. I live over there."

"Ah." Frank's expression was carefully blank in a way that Leon generally found meant someone was trying not to say anything bad. Leon felt suddenly uncertain, and to cover, jutted his chin out.

"Not fond of the Castro?"

"On the contrary," Frank replied smoothly. "I lived there for about ten years when I was younger. Would have stayed, but I wanted someplace quieter. Without the drive by glitter bombings." He slipped out of his jacket and started unbuttoning his vest. "Take off your jacket."

"What? I...."

Frank laid his coat and vest over the bar, then took Leon's jacket from him carefully, holding it at arms length and dumping it into a bus bin. He pulled out a clean bar towel, moistening it, expression focused as he wiped away spots of glitter from Leon's forehead and hair, smoothing it back with his fingers. His touch was warm, and being the sudden focus of Frank's entire attention was overwhelming. Leon swallowed hard, hoping that Frank couldn't hear how loud his heart was pounding.

"Better," Frank decided, and pulled back. then he handed Leon his vest. "Wear this."

"Oh - I couldn't - you need - "

"I'll manage for a day," Frank said, already doing up his jacket and straightening his tie. He looked back to Leon. "Go ahead. Or at least for the lunch service. Then I can give you a lift home to get another jacket."

Certain he was blushing, Leon pulled the vest over his shirt, trying very hard not to think about the rich scent of musk and spice that suddenly surrounded him. "I think it's too big...."

"Let me see." Frank ran his fingers over one shoulder with an appraising eye. Then he moved behind him, and Leon felt his fingers brush the small of his back as he tightened the belt. "A little big, but not bad. Here...." He grabbed one of the burgundy table napkins, folding it deftly and tucking it into the breast pocket of the vest. "There. Very smart."

"Thank you," Leon managed to say, heart still pounding. "I... I better start prepping." Then he hurried past him, very glad that he had a bar between the rest of the restaurant and his disobedient cock.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel tries to play matchmaker and finds out some unexpected things about his date...

The afternoons Daniel visited the restaurant he generally spent working in Ben's office, laptop open on Ben's desk. The things he took care of for the restaurant - the website, marketing, and social media - could really be done from anywhere, but he enjoyed the bustle and atmosphere. It often meant the opportunity to drag both Ben and May away from their work to sit down for an informal bite. Sometimes Frank would join him, though lately he'd been spending a conspicuous amount of time hanging around the bar.

Perhaps it wasn't obvious to anyone other than Daniel. Leon was still settling in, after all, looking after his two junior bartenders and polishing up the new cocktail menu for release with the holiday menu. Frank had every reason to make himself available for any support that Leon needed. Had Daniel not once been the object of Frank's affections himself he may never have suspected a thing.

Though Leon was a little more obvious, at least in his reactions. He'd taken to the role easily, easily juggling the workload along with managing his junior bartenders. With customers, Leon was engaging and well spoken. With Frank, he practically fell all over himself.

Daniel was quite certain that nothing had happened between them, not yet. The sexual tension was almost palatable, and watching them together was both endearing and a little arousing.

He was, then, a little surprised when Leon joined him in the office in the middle of the afternoon, pulling the office door closed behind him. He glanced up from his work with a smile. "Hey. How's the bar?"

"It's going," Leon replied, leaning against the back of the chair and looking over his shoulder. "Is that the new menu design?"

"It is. Do you want to see your cocktail listing?" Updating the menu was almost soothing to Daniel, using the existing creative elements they'd had designed for the restaurant and adding carefully arranged text to create new source files for the printers. He opened a different InDesign file. "Here."

He heard Leon give an approving hum. "You did that? It's gorgeous."

Daniel shrugged, quietly pleased. "I just put it together. Anyway, it needs to be worthy of your delicious creations."

"Oh stop." Leon chuckled, then leaned in to press a kiss to his hair. "Listen, Daniel... I haven't really thanked you properly for talking me into coming to this place. I'm really enjoying it here. Thank you."

Daniel smiled, turning in his chair to look up at him. "No need to thank me. I'm just happy to see you happy and able to use your talents again."

Leon gave a soft chuckle, glancing down. "It such a great change. I really need to be pushed out of my comfort zone."

"You'll be comfortable here soon enough," Daniel assured him.

"Hopefully." Leon seemed to hesitate for a moment, watching him. Then his voice softened. "Hey, I was thinking... you know, if you aren't busy tonight... maybe we could grab a drink and I could give you a proper thank you....?"

If Leon had asked him a month earlier, his answer would have been easy. Now Daniel felt the tips of his ears heat, and he glanced down, smiling. "I'd love to, but I... um... I have a date."

"A date...?" A curious smile played on Leon's lips. "Like, a date date? A romantic date?"

"A romantic date, yes. We've been talking online for a few weeks, he - oh, here, let me show you." It only took a moment to navigate to his date's facebook profile on his phone, clicking on a photo he thought was particularly attractive, even though it had some kind of old-fashioned pseudo-artsy sepia filter on it. The fact that the man was shirtless in it didn't hurt, either.

"Oooh... he's _pretty_. I'll keep my fingers crossed that everything goes well for you."

Daniel tucked away his phone, warmth and nervousness both curling together in his core. "It should. He's been really sweet."

"Good." Leon's smile looked almost wistful, so Daniel decided to take a chance.

"You know... if you wanted company I'm sure Frank would be more than happy to take my place."

"What?" Leon's entire face went red almost instantly. "It's not, I don't - I - I'm not -"

Daniel chuckled softly, patting Leon's hand where it sat on the chair. "Don't worry. I don't think it's obvious to everyone. I just know both of you too well."

"It's not like that," Leon tried again weakly, and Daniel smiled.

"It's not like that _yet_. Leon, listen. I know Frank. He's good people. Maybe one of the best I've ever dated. He was always very kind to me, very respectful. Even when I broke it off."

Leon chewed on his bottom lip. "Why did you?"

Daniel thought back, feeling wistful at his memories of his time with Frank. Would things have been different, if he'd been older then? "A number of different reasons. I was young, I wasn't ready to settle down. He was so dashing and so good in bed that I really tried, I really liked him, but... love didn't happen." He sighed, then looked back up at Leon with a smile. "He likes you, you know. You should give it a chance."

Leon's lips twisted unhappily as he looked away. "... I wish you hadn't told me that."

"Why not? Surely you must have realized it by now anyway."

"I've been trying not to," Leon said softly and Daniel felt his fingers tremble under his. "Daniel, I can't. He's my _boss_."

"Well... not entirely."

"Yes entirely. And your brother was very firm about no one dating direct reports at the restaurant. I'm pretty damn sure that applies here."

Daniel smiled, and shook his head. "Don't worry about Ben. If you two become an item I can handle him easily."

Leon's lips curled into a small, resigned smile. Then he turned his hand to give Daniel's a squeeze before pulling it away. "I appreciate that. I really do. But I'm thirty two, I can't just let myself run around thinking with my dick anymore. Working here is a good thing. I won't jeopardize it." He took a step back towards the door. "I should get back to prep."

"Okay," Daniel said, and forced himself not to press. He'd planted the seed now, for both of them. It would take time and patience to grow.

And in any case, he had much nicer things to think about.

It wasn't that he ever intentionally spied on the competition, he thought as he made his way to his date later. The fact that he'd eaten at most French restaurants worth mentioning in the city was purely coincidence. As a young professional working far too many hours in a day, if he didn't eat out, he generally didn't eat at all. Certainly there were only so many ham sandwiches and bag salads one could eat in a week. If he happened to have a penchant for good French food and never ate in the same restaurant, it certainly had nothing to do with Ben.

Still, he'd never quite been able to bring himself to visit the restaurant he made his way to now.

 _Experimental_ had opened at the opposite end of the block from Ben's Restaurant, _La Pâquerette_ , a little over two years ago. The property had previously been a fabric store converted from an old brick warehouse, and as Daniel stepped inside he couldn't help but think they'd done a fantastic job of converting the space while retaining the kind of rustic-industrial hipster charm that San Francisco foodies expected from trendy restaurants.

It was also surprisingly busy for six o'clock on a Wednesday. But then again, they had just made the Michelin guide.

One of the waitresses slipped past him, carrying drinks to the table in the window. She smiled as she came back. "Looking for a table, or would you like to sit at the bar?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting someone," Daniel replied, scanning the restaurant. Daniel's eyes glanced back to a dark haired man, suddenly recognizing the familiar face, who sat at one of the small bar tables along the wall. The man raised a hand in greeting and stood to meet him as Daniel made his way over. "John?"

"Yup. Good to finally meet you in person." John pulled him into a hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lowering his voice. "You're much cuter in person."

"Oh, stop." Daniel felt the tips of his ears burn, despite the rush of pleasure at John's words. Despite the fact that he was thinking very much the same thing.

John fit in very well at Experimental. He was the epitome of modern hipster-chic in dark skinny jeans, an artfully distressed corduroy jacket and fat black and gray checked scarf over a faded David Bowie tshirt. His dark hair was cut short on the sides but long at the top, dark curls carefully curled into a half-pomp, fluffed up and cascading over one side of his forehead. It was the kind of look that generally made Daniel wary of pretentious, rooftop gardening assholes. But John had seemed so guilelessly nice online that Daniel had made an exception.

Plus, it was hard to resist a man that hot.

The thing that most surprised him about the other man was that he had the most incredibly striking hazel-green eyes. He'd assumed online that it was a photo filter of some sort, and had never been more delighted to be proven wrong. Now he found himself unable to look away, simultaneously worried about being rude by staring and being ruder if he didn't make eye contact. He tried to push away his nervousness, and smiled. "Have you been here before? Any recommendations?"

John chuckled. "Oh, I might have been here once or twice. I'm partial to the pork belly, but the entire menu's really excellent." He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "It's where I take people I really want to impress."

Daniel couldn't help but feel endeared by his playfulness. "Is that so? Are you expecting someone else to join us, then?"

John laughed, delighted. "You know exactly what I meant, you tease."

The waitress stopped at their table before he could respond. "Can I start you guys off with a drink?"

"Yes...." Daniel quickly glanced over the cocktail menu. "Is the 'Sipsmith Smoked Gin' in the Negroni-EX quite smokey?"

"No, it's just a touch." John answered before the waitress could. "You'll like it."

"I'll have that, then."

John smiled at the waitress. "Tell Anna to make me that thing she's been working on."

"Sure. You want this all on your tab?"

"I can pay - " Daniel started, but John made a little dismissive motion.

"I invited you out. My treat."

"All right. My treat next time."

John's smile widened, though his voice was softer, fond. "Sure. I'll take you up on that."

Securing a second date so quickly made Daniel feel pleased, though it wasn't all that much of a surprise. He and John had been sending messages back and forth online for over a month now - at first on OK Cupid, then Facebook. John had wanted to meet early on, which the Daniel of ten years ago might have agreed to. But he was done with playing the field... now he was old enough that he wanted to know his lovers for more than ten minutes before hopping into bed with them.

Thankfully John hadn't been dissuaded. Even when Daniel had set the firm expectation of no sex on the first date.

"Anna says to tell her whether or not you like the bourbon in this one better than last night's," the waitress told John as she brought their drinks, his topped with what looked like egg white.

"Sure," John replied, and Daniel couldn't help but tease.

"You've been here once or twice, hmm?"

"Maybe a few more times than that," John replied with an unapologetic grin.

"I'm actually really glad you picked this place," Daniel said, once they'd placed their food order. "I've wanted to try it for a while, but... it kind of feels like I'm spying."

"Spying? How so?"

"My older brother owns _La Pâquerette_ , the French restaurant at the other end of this block. I handle a lot of his marketing."

"Really?" John quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you said you were a psychiatrist?"

"Well yeah, that's the day job. Pay the rent and then pursue your passions, right?"

"That's a smart philosophy," John agreed, giving a wry smile. "So you work for your brother, too?"

"Mostly unofficially. I handle their social media accounts, manage any creative projects, the look and feel of the website. Nothing full time, but... I like being around the restaurant. Not sure I'd see my brother much otherwise. You know restaurateurs."

"Mmm." John nodded slowly, looking thoughtful for a brief moment. Then he smiled again. "Social media, hey? Does it make much of an impact?"

"Yes and no... I don't do nearly as much with it as I probably could, it's mostly just food pictures and promoting special events. But it's good to have a presence to answer questions and reblog favorable tweets." He paused to take a sip of the modified Negroni he'd ordered. As John had predicted, the smoked gin was subtle, but the touch of smoke paired surprisingly well with the vermouth and herbed campari. "Mmm. that _is_ nice."

"Glad you approve," John replied, working on his own.

"You know who has a really interesting social media account, actually?" Daniel made a vague hand gesture around the room. "This place."

"Yeah?" John seemed impressed, smile widening.

"Yeah. Check them out sometime, if you're interested. They do a very good job being able to speak the language of the internet without going completely off-the-deep end weird like some companies who try too hard. I'm a little envious, to tell you the truth."

John gave a little shake of his head. "What, of their twitter account?"

"No, just the ability to do something fun and quirky like that. I'm far better responding to humor than trying to instigate it myself. Plus, Ben runs _La Pâquerette_ very traditionally. Very by-the-book. It wouldn't suit our image."

"Hmm. Shame, that. Must be working, though. Your brother's restaurant has a hell of a reputation. I'm curious, though... why'd he name it _La Pâquerette_? I mean, it's appropriately French and all, but it makes me expect a pastry shop or something."

Daniel chuckled. "I tried to tell him that, too. But Ben wanted to name it after his baby girl, so. I guess it's a good thing that people don't pay much attention to the actual meaning."

It was easy, talking and laughing with John. He was just as sweet and sunny in person as he'd been online, and somehow far funnier. Definitely more flirtatious, but surprisingly smooth, and as they shared each other's food and sipped another set of cocktails Daniel couldn't help but find himself incredibly charmed by the man.

By the time they'd finished their food, the restaurant was buzzing, something that seemed strangely distracting to John. Daniel reached across the table to place a hand over his. "Hey... do you want to go somewhere a bit more quiet? Maybe grab a coffee?"

John gave a soft sigh, and smiled. "Yes. But I can't. I start shift at seven thirty."

"Really?" Daniel glanced at his work. "Shit. We should get going, then. Where's work?"

At that, John's smile grew even more sheepish. He jerked his head towards the bar. "There."

Daniel couldn't help but laugh. "Well, now things make a bit more sense."

John grinned and shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry. I...." He glanced away, looking suddenly self-conscious, a little worried when he looked back at him. "I didn't mean to mislead you. I didn't realize you were in the industry."

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not, not really. Just on the edge."

"But still. To be honest, my problem's usually the opposite. My ex got tired of the long hours... and flirty customers." He glanced down, worrying his bottom lip. "Do you still want to get together again sometime?"

Even if he had taken issue with somewhat-unintentional deception, the sudden touch of insecurity and the sweet vulnerability underneath John's teasing bravado would have still won him over. Daniel squeezed his hand gently. "When's your next night off?"

"I work the brunch crowd on Sunday... finish at seven?"

"That sounds perfect." He left a few bills on the table to cover the tip, glaring at John as he tried to protest, then hopped down off the stool and held out a hand to him. "See me out?"

"Love to."

The street seemed almost silent after the bustle and noise of the bar. John walked him past the front of the building, squeezing his hand gently. "I had a really good time tonight, Daniel. Thanks for coming."

"Well, thank you for taking me out." Daniel reached up with his free hand to brush John's jaw with his fingertips. "I really enjoyed myself, too."

"Even though I was so terribly deceptive?" John teased, though Daniel could tell that it was half to cover that same endearing touch of nervousness.

He nodded. "But only because I like you so much."

John's smile widened, and he glanced down almost shyly for a moment. Then he stepped closer, reaching up to brush his fingers along Daniel's jaw, voice soft. "How do you feel about kisses on a first date?"

Daniel's heart gave a flutter. He let his hands rest lightly on John's shoulders. "I think kisses are perfect."

"Good," John murmured. His fingers slipped to the back of Daniel's neck as he leaned in, pressing a soft, slow kiss to lips. For a moment, that was all that existed for Daniel - the warm, subtle scent of John's cologne enveloping him, the press of his fingers. The warmth of his body as Daniel arched closer, kissing him again, Daniel's lips parting, craving more. John gave a low, appreciative hum, his tongue briefly sweeping against his, liquor sweet and tantalizing. Then he pulled back with a soft sigh. "You make me wish I didn't have to work."

Me too, Daniel thought, and smiled. "Sunday."

John nodded, brushing his thumb against Daniel's bottom lip, then leaning on for another soft peck. "I'll be looking forward to it. Have a good night, gorgeous."

Daniel felt a flush of happiness, giving him a brief, tight hug before forcing himself to pull away. "You too."

He let himself briefly admire the way John's skinny jeans hugged his ass, then turned away, heading down the street towards Ben's.

He couldn't know how things would go with John, of course. Maybe the next date would be terrible. Maybe they'd be horrible together in bed. But Daniel was a good judge of character. He didn't think that would be the case.

Still, it was probably better if he waited a bit to tell Ben that he was dating the head bartender at Experimental.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Daniel's efforts to promote both restaurants get a little out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sad that AO3 doesn't allow font color changes, the twitter posts looked SO LEGIT on livejournal!!  
> All fancy food photos yoinked with permission from local food photog friends. :3  
> PPS Sorry-not-sorry if it makes you hungry. ;)

Checking social media in the morning had become fairly habitual, for Daniel, both his own feeds and the restaurant's. It was nice to sit back with a coffee and go through La Pâquerette's tag on Twitter and Instagram, liking and reblogging whatever comments or food photos people had posted during the dinner service the night before. He hadn't heard from John since they'd parted the night before, which was a little unusual - they'd been in fairly constant contact for the past week or so, even if it was just little pleasantries. Then again, he assumed an evening shift working the bar at Experimental must have been busy for him.

Then he checked the restaurant's Twitter notifications.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 4h

@LaPaquerette-SF Send your spy back to spy on us again - he was really cute!  #foodlovers  
  
---|---  
  
For a long moment Daniel just stared at the post, feeling a mixture of dread and strange excitement. Then he clicked through to Experimental's twitter account, reading through some of the recent posts and replies. The tone and voice of the entries was so familiar the he suddenly felt stupid for not realizing it before now. He sent John a text.

_"So you're the one running social for Experimental."_

He didn't get a reply back until halfway through the morning, when he was checking his phone between appointments.

_"What makes you say that?"_

_"Do you normally use the company twitter as a vehicle for flirting?"_

_"Flirting? Is someone flirting with you? Should I be jealous? What twitter?"_

_"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you cheeky boy."_

_"Well, if someone is flirting with you on twitter, maybe you should set them straight...?"_

As much as he wanted to flirt back, Daniel couldn't help but worry. This was exactly the kind of knowledge he wanted to keep from Ben. Having John tag him was one thing, Ben couldn't see that unless he actually searched for tweets about the restaurant, or went to Experimental's page. Once he started responding, it would be obvious. But really, how often did Ben go on Twitter?

_"I'm not sure if I should.... we're not really that kind of restaurant, John."_

_"Why not? You said you wanted to do more with your Social, right? Play with me. I'll get you good impressions."_

Daniel navigated back to Experimental's twitter page. 25.3K followers was definitely not chump change, especially not for a local restaurant. La Paquerette's followers had nearly tripled shortly after the Michelin guide had been released, but they'd still only just broken three thousand, and their growth had fallen off now that the initial spike of business had started to slow down.

Another text buzzed through from John. _"I bet you I can double your follower count by Sunday. Come on Daniel, play with meeee."_

Somehow John's words, his challenge, awoke a thrill of excitement. He couldn't resist the urge to push back. _"Only double? I thought you were far more established than that."_

 _"Well, what do I get if I can triple your followers?"_

Daniel bit his lip on a smile. _"The best blowjob you've ever had."_

 _"Oh, you're SO on."_

Opening his twitter notifications again, Daniel contemplated John's text, chewing on his bottom lip. Flirting was easy. Flirting as a restaurant was an entirely different matter to contemplate. Finally he fired back a reply.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

You can't charm your way into a Michelin Star, @experimentalfoodsf  
  
---|---  
  
Daniel ran his psychology practice from 8am to 2pm, and after nearly ten years of carefully and skillfully building his reputation, the money from that exclusivity was more than enough to maintain his modest lifestyle. Today he found it difficult to switch tracks back to counselling for the first time - he had to make a concerted effort to shut John out of his mind.

He needed the fifteen minutes between appointments to update notes and paperwork. But it wouldn't hurt to check twitter quickly.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 41m

@LaPaquerette-SF No, but we can charm our way into seeing you again. Come on. You loved our food.  #foodlovers  
  
---|---  
  
Daniel couldn't help but chuckle under his breath, grinning as he typed back.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

@experimentalfoodsf I don't know what you're talking about, I was just there to look at your hot bartenders.  
  
---|---  
  
Prudently, Daniel forced himself to wrap up his work and leave the office before checking his phone again.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 1h

@LaPaquerette-SF Our bartenders ARE incredibly hot. You'd fit in well here.  #foodlovers  
  
---|---  
  
Daniel made a note to tease John about being such a narcissist the next time he saw him. He took a few moments to compose a reply before starting off for work.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

@experimentalfoodsf Stop trying to lure us in with your hot bartenders. We're busy down the street making the city's best #FrenchCuisine  
  
---|---  
  
"You're in a good mood," Ben remarked when he saw him.

Daniel smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. "I had a really good date last night."

"With..." Ben glanced out towards the dining room.

Daniel laughed, shaking his head. "He's a sweetheart, but we've never been serious, Ben. But... I think this one might end up being."

His brother gave a little approving hum, though his smile was a little sad. While Daniel didn't think that his brother suffered from any kind of broken heart over his ex-wife - secretly, he thought the main reasons Ben had worked such long hours during their marriage was to escape her - he knew Ben still regretted the loss of his family. He'd broached the subject of dating again more than a few times in the past. At first Ben was quietly despondent, then self depreciatory, then annoyed. The last few times Daniel had brought it up Ben had ignored him completely. It worried Daniel. Because as much as Ben claimed that all he needed was the restaurant, he really wanted his brother to take a chance on love again.

If he'd ever leave the restaurant to meet anyone, that was.

Pushing thoughts of Ben's love life out of his mind, Daniel set up shop at Ben's desk and returned to his own.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 1h

@LaPaquerette-SF Gastropub is the new chic! We can stand up to your "traditional" menu any day!  #fresh #unique #urbanfood  
  
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Daniel couldn't help but grin as he typed his reply, feeling particularly devious.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

@experimentalfoodsf How do you know? We've never seen you eat here. Is high class French cuisine too mainstream for you? #hipster  
  
---|---  
  
A text from John buzzed through a few minutes later. _"Ouch!! I need some ice for that burn! Blololololololol love it."_

His twitter response wasn't far behind.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 1m

@LaPaquerette-SF You may have world class cuisine, but do you have POPCORN #DUCK ???   
  
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Grabbing his phone, Daniel slipped out into the kitchen. May was expediting - organizing and calling orders, and running quality checks on the finished dishes before sending them out in the floor. Conveniently, she'd just finished garnishing an order of their braised duck breast. "May! Hold that and pose!"

"What?"

"For instagram. You look super cute right now, don't worry." May always looked cute, but at the start of service her makeup was still pristine.

"Okay?" May held up the plate as Daniel snapped the picture. She looked just a little bewildered, but adorably so. Daniel pressed a kiss to her cheek and went back to the office.

He uploaded the image to instagram first, adding a vivid filter to make the colors pop. Then he saved it on his laptop and cross posted to Twitter.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

Sous Chef May Jensen with braised duck, foie gras  & cherry strudel, red wine & star anise gastrique. Eat that, @experimentalfoodsf  
  
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| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 2m

@LaPaquerette-SF we'd love to eat that! Have room for us to stop by?   
  
---|---  
  
Daniel smiled at the response, immediately recognizing a perfect opportunity to pimp the restaurant.

| 

**La Pâquerette** @LaPaquerette-SF - now

@experimentalfoodsf our new heated rooftop patio is open seating and has a great view! Stop by anytime - no rsvp needed!  
  
---|---  
  
As he was posting, another notification popped up, and Daniel found himself shaking his head. John certainly seemed to have a lot of time on his hands.

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 1m

@LaPaquerette-SF Check out our sexy sibling bartenders!  #brunetteshavemorefun instagram.com/p/9r1L3jHlzA8/  
  
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He clicked the link to instagram to find an arm's length selfie of John with the dark haired girl he'd seen behind the bar when he'd been there. Anna, he remembered John calling her. They were both making exaggerated duck lips.. He could see the family resemblance now, they had the same striking eyes, though he thought John's sister's might be a little more blue.

He chuckled softly as he texted John. _"Hot duck lips. And thanks for the lead-in."_

 _"Welcome, sexy. Your follower count's gained a bit, too. Gotta pay attention to the bar now. Play more tomorrow."_

Tomorrow. Daniel felt a warm flush of excitement. It was shaping up to be a hell of a week.

* * *

 

Daniel woke up Saturday morning to a text from May.

_"Sugar, what exactly is going on with our twitter account...?"_

Daniel smiled to himself as he wrote his reply. _"Just a bit of friendly competition to increase our traffic and follower count."_

After a few moments her reply came through. _"I'm not sure your brother would consider that poll 'friendly competition'...."_

| 

**Experimental Food** @experimentalfoodsf - 5h

@LaPaquerette-SF I think our duck beats yours.

  
  
  
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Daniel sighed. Then he picked up the phone and called John.

He picked up after a few rings, voice thick and burred with sleep. "Mmmm... morning sexy."

Daniel felt a flash of guilt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you...."

" 'S okay, is nice to hear from you. Everything okay?"

Daniel bit his lip. It was hard to be angry when John sounded so adorably amicable. "Um, I'm just a bit worried about that poll you posted...."

John instantly sounded more awake. "I'm sorry, did I go too far? I'll take it down."

"I'm just worried about Ben... I'm sorry. I tell him it's silly but he's just so competitive when it comes to the restaurant..."

"No, no. Don't apologize, I should have asked. I'm sorry. I'll take it down."

"Thank you. I'm sorry. I just...." I want him to like you. "I don't want him to kibosh this."

"It's okay, I understand. I'm on my tablet now. How are you?"

"I'm good. I've really been enjoying what went been doing online."

"Yeah? Good. I have too. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Not just because of this twitter thing."

"Me too," Daniel replied, relieved that he didn't seem to be angry. "I was thinking... Maybe we could trade some duck? If you actually want to try it, I mean. I could bring some over for you and your sister and do a photo for instagram after the lunch rush?"

"Oh! Yeah, that would be really fun! Good idea."

Daniel felt a soft rush of pride. "Alright, I'll text you later, then. Get some sleep, I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay. I'll have good dreams now. See you later, hon."

He waited until Ben had settled in his office with paperwork to approach May in the kitchen. "Hey, do you think you could put in an order of the duck breast for me, if we've prepped enough?"

"I think so." May looked across the kitchen. "Cherry, how are we on the duck strudel?"

La Pâquerette's head pâtissière adjusted her glasses, leaving a smudge of flour on the frames. "We're sitting pretty for dinner service. Still have half a strudel hot now."

"Good. Spence, one more duck please!" 

"Yes chef - sixteen minutes to the window. Walking now with two, one tuna."

Daniel stepped back to stay out of the way of their Saucier. "Um, one more thing. Could I possibly get that packed....?"

"Packed?" May raised her eyebrows, then sighed. "This is for our neighbours, then? Tell me that thing from this morning isn't still a thing."

"No, no. I took care of that. We reformulated. By the way, would you like to try some popcorn duck later?"

May chuckled, shaking her head. "Sure. Look, if you're taking this over you're going to have to plate it properly when you get there, you can't slice it until you're ready to serve. And if it doesn't look good plated in the photo it's not going on social media, okay?"

"That's fair."

"Good, now watch. The gastrique goes down first. Start an inch away from the edge of the plate and pull it back straight, right down the middle with even thickness, ending at the two thirds mark. I'll give you a little bit more than you'll need, so don't get the end of it messy trying to drip out the last bit of sauce, even though this end will be covered. The strudel goes down along this side, the broccoli florets at the end of it here. Then slice the breast diagonally, thin, no more than half an inch. Fan the slices out along the other side of the gastrique, leaning against the strudel like this, okay? If you're going to take an eating photo, then hold one of the slices back from the plating. Got it?"

Daniel tried to memorize the look of the plate as she placed it on the serving window. "Yes."

"Maybe. Give me one moment, I'll go over it again." May cut and plated the tuna quickly, then hit the bell at the window. "Table fourteen at the window, one duck one ahi tuna! Daniel, watch."

Daniel watched her plate the second duck. Gastrique, strudel, broccoli, sliced duck. May turned back towards the kitchen. "Spence, that duck's to go, it'll rest on its way over. How long 'till it's cooked?"

"Three minutes, chef!"

May gave a satisfied nod. "Go text your friend, tell him to have a plate, a chef's knife and a cutting board ready for you. You'll be there in ten minutes."

Daniel grabbed his jacket from the office and sent John a text. _"Duck's coming over a bit faster than I expected, will you have a moment? I need a plate, chef knife and board."_

His reply came quickly. _"Always time for you darling. Will have stuff ready."_

_"Thanks. Be there in ten."_

Ben looked up from his desk. "You headed home, liebling?"

"Not yet. Just need to run an errand. I'll be back soon." It wasn't completely a lie, and though Daniel still felt a little guilty, the whole thing was rather thrilling.

When he returned to the kitchen, May had a bag ready. "I put one of the patisserie stickers on the top of the box, try and get it in the shot, okay? And put on the the gloves while you plate. Have fun."

"Thanks a lot for this," Daniel replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek and taking the duck out the front door of the restaurant, carefully not passing the office.

Experimental was buzzing when he walked in the door, though only a few people were seated at the bar. John was at the far end, and Daniel could see a large dinner plate on the bartop beside a wooden charcuterie board with a knife resting on top. He waved Daniel over, eyeing the bag as he set it on the bar top. "I'm totally okay with just eating this out of the container, you know."

"May wouldn't let me take it unless I promised to make it pretty," Daniel replied. He draped his jacket over one of the bar stools and pulled on the latex gloves May had included, then took the lid off the soup container with the gastrique in it. "She has veto power over the photo before it goes online."

"That's fair," John replied. He grabbed a handful of cutlery rolls and started unrolling them, draping two black napkins diagonally on the bar, overlapping in the middle. "You want some too?"

Daniel shook his head. "I'll just take the picture." The strudel was just cool enough to handle as he laid it out on the plate with the broccoli florettes. Then he set the steaming duck breast on the charcuterie board, slicing carefully, breathing a sigh of relief as he managed to get the slices fairly even. He held back the ends, dripping a little of the leftover gastrique on them, and fanned the rest on the plate. He snapped a pic of the plating and texted it to May. 

_"Do I pass muster?"_

_"Beautiful. You've done well, young padawan."_

Daniel smiled at John. "Okay, we're a go. Leave the plate like this for the photo. Eat these two pieces. Then you can dig in."

"Sure. Damn, if that tastes half as good as it looks...." John waived his sister over from the other end of the bar, then turned his attention to a ginger man who was perched on a bar stool a few feet away from Daniel. "Gonna get in on this, Lar?"

"Might as well." He got up, lifting the gate at the end of the bar to join him. Daniel hadn't paid any attention to him when he'd come in, assuming he was a patron. He gave him a polite smile. "Sorry, I'm Daniel, I handle social media for La Pâquerette. You work here too?"

The man gave him a lopsided smile, lush lips and warm blue eyes making Daniel feel immediately amicable towards him. "I'm Larry. And you could say that." He speared the smaller piece of duck, pressing familiarly close to John and Anna as they split the other piece.

Daniel quickly arranged the plate and box on the bartop and pulled out his phone. John opened his mouth comically wide around his fork while Anna posed more cutely. Larry caught the end of his slice between his teeth and grinned around it, and Daniel carefully took a couple of shots with John's iphone, then flicked through them to verify the quality. "Okay, we're good."

"Good," John replied, and stuffed the piece of duck in his mouth.

Larry chewed more thoughtfully before swallowing. "That's some very expertly cooked duck. Nice flavours in the gastrique, too. Star anise?"

Daniel nodded. "The strudel's just as amazing."

"Is that so?" He cut off a piece, scooping up a bit of the gastrique with it, and lifted it to his mouth. He froze mid chew for a moment, then continued, slowly shaking his head as he swallowed. "John, I don't think we can do this."

"What?" John had just speared a piece of brocolli. "What do you mean?"

"There's no way our duck stands up to this."

John pouted. "But - the popcorn duck is really good!"

Larry motioned towards the strudel with his fork. "Eat that."

"Yeah?" Anna cut off a piece, as well as a small piece of duck, then put both in her mouth. Her eyes went wide as she chewed. "... that's really fucking good."

John wrinkled his nose, then shoved a large piece of the strudel into his mouth. ".... mmm. Mmmmm. 's a fucking orgasm." He swallowed. "What the hell is in that?"

"Fois gras?" Larry answered correctly before Daniel could. "And... tastes like cherry that's been pickled in a sweet balsamic." He speared another piece as Daniel nodded, with a piece of the duck, chewing appreciatively. "This is quite possibly the best duck I've ever had. The flavour combination is superb, perfectly balanced. John, I insist you quote me on that when you tweet this out."

John sighed, scribbling it down on a bar napkin. "Okay, fine. But we have to send our duck back with him still. That was the deal."

"I know." Larry speared one last piece of the strudel, then put his fork down, stepping out from behind the bar. "Come with me."

Daniel hurried to follow. "If it's too much trouble...."

"No trouble. Just not much of a competition." Larry paused at the kitchen door. "He really likes you, you know. Hasn't shut up about you all week."

Daniel felt a rush of happiness. "You two are friends?"

"Roomies. Come on, I'll get you that duck." He grabbed a chef's coat off a hook just inside the kitchen, pulling it on as he walked. The kitchen was rather smaller than Ben's, and without a pastry station, though just as busy. Daniel couldn't help but think that all of his staff were surprisingly attractive. "Connor, I need an order of popcorn duck to go, pronto."

"Yes, chef!" a young, dark-haired man by the fryer grabbed a bowl, dropping what he assumed was breaded duck into the fryer piece by piece. "To go in the regular box, or a take out box?"

"In the regular box inside a large take-out box," Larry replied. A few minutes later he handed Daniel a bag that contained a large box of duck and two smaller sauce containers. "If you can, plate this with the inner box laid on its side and the duck spilling out around the sauce containers. One of these is orange-ginger, the other is a spicy plum. And whatever you write, just be nice, okay? We might just serve gastropub food, but we do our best to give people a good dining experience."

Daniel nodded, taking the bag. "You own this place, don't you?"

Larry gave a wry smile. "Sometimes I think it owns me."

Daniel thought of Ben. "I can understand that. I hope you'll forgive me, but I'd just planned on trying this with our Sous chef and head bartender, I'm not sure I can return the favor of getting our executive chef in on this. He's... um, pretty tied up right now."

Larry made a dismissive motion with one hand. "That's fine. A little relieving, actually. Feed it to whoever you like."

"Thanks." Daniel took a step back, then hesitated. "I did really like the food I tried here the other day. You're certainly deserving of the Michelin rating."

Larry's smile softened. "Thank you," he replied quietly, then turned back to his staff.

Daniel pondered the food as he walked back to La Pâquerette, bringing it in the front door. Then, spotting Frank with Leon at the bar, an idea clicked.

He joined them, setting the bag on the bar top and giving Frank what he hoped was a sweet smile. "Frank, if you have a moment could I ask a small favor?"

Frank finished popping the cork on a bottle of red, breathing in the scent assessingly, and giving a small, satisfied nod before turning to Daniel. "Sure?"

"Well, it's two, actually. Pose for a photo with May and Leon and suggest a wine pairing for this duck?"

Frank glanced at the bag. "... from the place down the street?"

Daniel hoped his smile was convincing. "It's for a twitter thing."

Frank shrugged. "Sure, just let me take this wine out."

May was still expediting in the kitchen. She nodded to Daniel as he entered. "Spence, can you plate for a couple minutes? Emily, take over sauce, okay?" She glanced down at the square plate Daniel had picked up. "I can only spare a couple minutes."

"I'll be quick," Daniel promised. Back at the bar, he took the box of popcorn duck out of the take out box and arranged it diagonally on the plate, on its side as Larry had asked. The presentation box was a striking looking sleek black with a sticker of Experimental's logo on the side, upside down. Placed on its side with the pieces spilling out around the sauces, the presentation looked both striking and fun.

"Frank's coming," May hissed.

"Don't worry, he's in on it," Daniel replied, turning to smile at Frank. "Can I get you all behind the bar?"

It only took a moment to get a couple of shots of them trying the duck. Afterwards May grabbed another piece, dipping it in the orange ginger sauce. "Mmm. Tell them it's delicious."

Daniel nodded. "Hey, how did you know I was talking to someone over there, anyway?"

May smirked. "Well, you're not the only one who thinks they have cute bartenders," she said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

"It is good," Frank agreed, dipping another piece in the spicy plum sauce. "Surprisingly light and crisp, I was worried the duck would make it too greasy. You want a general taste recommendation, or a specific wine?"

"Um. Specific. Maybe a more cost effective one of possible?" Daniel popped a piece in his mouth and opened the note app on his phone, surprised to discover the duck savory, tender, and flavorful - more than he'd expected it to be.

"Mmm." Frank popped another piece in his mouth, chewing. "Byron 2008 Nielson Vineyard Pinot Noir. The richness of the duck and the subtle Asian flavors need a Pinot Noir with a sweeter, riper taste. Or a Beaujolais. The Château des Jacques 2006 Clos de Rochegrès Gamay would be nice. Both run around $40."

Leon watched him with wide eyes, frozen mid chew. He forced himself to swallow, shaking his head. "How do you do that?"

Frank chuckled softly. "A combination of study and ongoing familiarity with the market. A hell of a lot of study." He looked to Daniel. "Ben know you're doing this?"

Daniel flushed, glancing down. "Not yet."

"Hm. Well, I don't think the online publicity could do any harm. Your brother does need to loosen up a bit. But you should decide what your end game is and tell him what you're doing. The longer you wait the harder it'll be."

"I know," Daniel replied, and sighed. But Frank raised a good point. What was his end game? Just more Twitter followers? Flirting with John was all well and good, but he should be able to set some long of formal goal for return on investment. He smiled at Frank's expectant look. "I'll figure something out soon, don't worry." 

When he went to post the picture, John's shot was already up, along with a quote from "Executive Chef Larry Byrne" about it being the best damn duck he'd ever had. He'd like Larry, he decided, though he couldn't help but wonder at the man's apparent insecurity about his food. The popcorn duck wasn't high end french cuisine, but it had still been incredibly good. Maybe it just happened to all good chefs, despite their level of success.

He typed in a caption with the photo as he posted it. _For @experimentalfoodsf 's succulent popcorn duck, our Master Sommelier recommends the Byron 2008 Nielson Vineyard Pinot Noir._

Whatever he needed to figure out about Ben and the restaurant, surely it could wait until after his date with John.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if one part of Frank's life is quickly spiraling out of control, there's still some things he's moderately good at. One of those things is, apparently, meddling with Ben's.

Frank watched Daniel disappear into the back, the tell-tale box that the duck from Experimental had come in carefully hidden in the trash behind the bar. For a long time after they'd broken up he'd regretted letting such a sweet, good looking man slip through his fingers. But then, Daniel had been the first relationship he'd allowed himself to invest in for a very long time.

It had taken Frank fourteen years in the industry before he'd secured an invitation to take the Master Sommelier exam. Then an additional two years of additional preparation before a first attempt. When he'd passed on his fourth attempt, he'd become the hundred and eighty-seventh person in the world to do so. Working towards the exam didn't give anyone much time for anything else, so when he'd started dating Daniel shortly after passing he'd wanted to make up for lost time. Daniel hadn't been looking for something quite so serious, and while he'd been very kind about the break up, Frank had still been disappointed.

Now, years later, he could see more clearly that they wouldn't have worked, long term. And he'd gotten Ben as a business partner instead, which he supposed was more valuable in the end. Still, sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if Daniel might be willing to spend another night in his company.

Just for old times sake, of course. It absolutely, definitely had nothing to do with what he did or did not feel for the sweet-faced young man standing behind the bar.

Leon finished setting an order of cocktails onto a tray, then turned back to him. "How do you really remember those wines that exactly? Have you actually tasted them, or is it just from write-ups...?" 

"I've tasted many of them," Frank replied. "It's quite impossible to attain Master Sommelier certification without extensively developing your palate, and that happens through repetition, just like any other skill. The reason the certification is so difficult to earn is that we're required to identify blind not only the vintage and varieties of grape in the wine, but the country, region and year. Six wines in under half an hour. So you get very adept at it by necessity." Leon was still watching him, wide-eyed, so he nodded towards the back of the bar. "You must feel that way about various grain drinks?"

Leon's lips pursed as he considered it. "I suppose I can identify some of the common ones by taste. But it's not really the same." He stepped towards one of the servers as she brought him a drink order, then gave Frank a soft smile. "Will you tell me more about it later?"

As long as you want, Frank thought, and cursed himself. He smiled. "Later."

During peak times in the restaurant he did his best to visit each new table with its server, introducing the wine list and offering his services. Tonight he couldn't help but feel distracted, and as the dinner hour wore on he found a quiet moment in the wine cellar to steal away. He needed to stop thinking inappropriately about Leon, needed to put any thoughts and possibilities of what might be out of his mind. In any case, while Leon was certainly very sweet and friendly, he couldn't know for certain that the man was truly interested in him, and not just responding to any overtures because of Frank's position.

He sent Daniel a text.

_"I know it's been a while, but I was wondering if you might like to get a drink with me sometime. I'd like to catch up."_

When he had time to check the reply he nearly groaned aloud.

_"I'm sorry. I appreciate the invitation, but I'm seeing someone. Like you should be. Don't beat around the bush and break his heart, Frank. Leon's crazy about you."_

Well, fuck.

Frank worried about it over the issue for the rest of service. He'd really tried to keep things professional, to be polite and friendly without leading him on. But perhaps his own feelings had made it impossible, had shone through despite his efforts.

Perhaps it was time to address the matter directly.

He stopped by the bar as dinner service was beginning to quiet down. Leon was going over something with one of his junior bartenders, but managed to step away after a moment to meet him. "Hey, everything alright?"

"I just need to talk to you downstairs when you have a moment," Frank forced himself to say, trying to ignore the sudden worry in Leon's expression.

"Um, sure. I'll be down in just a moment."

Then Frank retreated to his office. Suddenly it didn't feel like much of a sanctuary, though he'd designed it with that in mind. Small, classic, elegant. One wall a pane of glass between him and the wine cellar, lines of bottles on bright wood against the dim light from the other side. Just table wine, of course, he couldn't expose their more expensive varietals to the extra light from his office. But it needed to look nice for the industry contacts he met with and the private clients he entertained.

Leon had been there several times since starting at the restaurant, but now he looked nervous. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Now that Leon was in his office Frank felt all words drying up in his mouth. What was he supposed to say? How could he put a stop to flirting that he couldn't even admit was happening in the first place? He swallowed hard and searched for something.

"Ah. yes. I'm just going over the order for next week. You wanted me to bring in a case of... Beringer Chardonnay?"

Leon nodded. "I want to do a variation on a white sangria for the spring, I think it would fit the restaurant. I'm also thinking of doing a Kir with fresh lavender and blackberry. If we bring it in now we can do some testing well in advance of the launch."

Frank fought very hard to keep from visibly wincing. "With a Beringer Chardonnay?"

Despite his efforts, Frank's disgust must have shown in his voice. He watched Leon flush, suddenly flustered. "I - um, it was the table Chardonnay at my Uncle's, so I figured...."

This time Frank did wince, and he held up a hand. "Stop, please. That's the worst thing I've heard all day."

"...sorry." Leon ducked his head, a flash of disappointment in his expression, and Frank immediately felt guilty.

He stepped around the desk, placing a hand on Leon's shoulder and feeling a slight tremor move through the other man. Frank swallowed hard. "Don't be sorry. It's just a lack of experience. I'll help you."

Leon looked up in surprise. "You'll tell me what wine I should use for this?"

The eagerness in the man's bright blue eyes and the almost expectant softness of his lips made Frank feel dizzy. "I'll teach you," he found himself telling him, not quite believing what he was saying. "We can choose one together that fits with the flavour profile you want."

Leon's smile sent a thrill through him. "I'd really like that," he said softly, and seemed to lean a little closer. "When?"

"Tomorrow after service? We'll go through the by-the-glass whites, I'll bring in a couple of additional options...."

Leon nodded, the apples of his cheeks flushed, and Frank couldn't help but think how easy it would be to close the remaining distance between them and claim those soft lips for a kiss. "That sounds perfect," Leon replied, and Frank forced himself to step away.

"Good. Tomorrow then."

Then Leon left, and Frank sat down weakly in his desk chair, wondering how he'd managed to somehow end up doing the complete opposite of what he'd set out to do.

* * *

 

"Frank, what the hell is this?"

Ben's business partner had the laminated floor plan for the two inside floors of the restaurant pinned up to his office wall, half the tables marked or drawn on in various colours of dry-erase marker. Reassigning sections for the holiday rush, Ben assumed. He'd secretly always been very impressed at how many turns Frank and his Maitre'd team managed to get out of their tables.

He was less impressed with the photo of him currently up on their twitter account.

Frank glanced at it briefly, then turned back to the floor plan. "Part of a promotional campaign, I believe."

"For what, the place down the street?"

Frank snorted. "You haven't seen their twitter yet, have you?"

Frowning, Ben hit the link for Experimental's twitter account, scrolling past a few reblogs before finding a photo of three people standing behind a bar, enthusiastically sampling an order of his braised duck breast.

_Exe.Chef Byrne: "Quite possibly the best duck I've ever had. The flavour combination is superb, perfectly balanced."_

Well, that was incredibly complimentary. Still..... "Why are we exchanging food with the competition? And you sanctioned this?"

Frank shrugged. "All I did was eat some duck, Ben. But don't be mad at Daniel. He's doubled our Twitter following in three days."

"Doing more than this?" Ben stepped closer to him, words bubbling over angrily. "Frank, we aren't this kind of restaurant. How could you let him - "

"Excuse me for a minute." Frank pushed past him dismissively, apparently completely unconcerned with what was going on, disappearing out of his office and through the door of the wine cellar. He returned a few minutes later, pushing a bottle of Pinot Noir into Ben's hands.

He stared down at the bottle. Nielson Vineyard, 2008. "What the hell is this?"

"Wine. Take it to Experimental, order the duck. Drink it. If you're still unhappy afterwards then you can talk to Daniel."

Ben's eyebrows knit together. "Why the hell would I do that? I can't just leave the restaurant - "

"Because I told you to, and you can. It's Sunday evening, Ben, the kids can handle the last hour of service. I'll make sure nothing explodes. Take your things and go. But let the wine breathe for a couple minutes."

Ben opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning. His business partner was an even tempered, very reasonable man, but he knew from experience that on the rare occasion that Frank decided something was Necessary it was nearly impossible to dissuade him otherwise. Easier to just go eat the damn duck. "Fine," he grumbled, and went back upstairs.

He stopped by the bathroom to splash water on his face and run wet fingers through the unruly spikes of his blond hair. It didn't take long after that to tidy his office, changing out of his work uniform and pulling his jacket on. He raised a hand towards May. "I'm headed... out. Call me if you need me back, okay?"

His sous chef looked a little surprised, but smiled. "I will. We'll be fine, though. Go."

Ben nodded, tucking the bottle of wine under his arm and starting down the street.

He'd only been into Experimental once, just long enough to check the place out but not to order anything. Most of the tables were still occupied even late on a Sunday evening, but the bar was nearly empty. He chose a stool about halfway down the bar, feeling conspicuous and awkward.

The bartender was a pretty, dark-haired young thing. The girl who'd been eating his duck in the photo, Ben recognized. She gave him a warm smile. "Would you like a menu?"

"Just an order of the duck," Ben replied, setting the wine on the table. "Can I pay you a corking fee?"

He watched her gaze move over the bottle curiously, and she nodded. "Sure, it's $20. I'll get both of those for you right away."

He watched her walk the length of the bar with the wine as she started to screw in the corkscrew. She attracted the attention of one of the servers, saying something to her that Ben couldn't quite make out. Then she returned with the wine and a glass, popping the cork and pouring a generous serving. "Here you are. The duck should only be a few minutes."

"Thank you." Ben left a twenty and a five on the bar for her, placing his hand down over the stand of the glass and giving it a generous swirl. Frank had gone over the intricacies of wine tasting with him on several occasions, and while he didn't generally pay that much attention to his wines unless it was in conjunction with a new menu item, it was nice to focus on now instead of how uncomfortable he felt at this bar.

"One order of the popcorn duck, with ginger-orange and spicy plum sauces. On the house," said a warm, masculine voice beside him, setting the plate down on the bar top. Ben turned to find one of the men from the photo. He was wearing a white Executive Chef's coat, double-breasted, piped in blue with the restaurant's logo embroidered on the breast.

Well, so much for coming here incognito.

Ben forced a smile, turning on the stool to offer a hand. "Ben Carson."

The man's handshake was warm and firm, but what was most surprising was his smile - warm and slightly lopsided, reaching all the way to a pair of bright blue eyes. "Larry Byrne. I'm so happy you could stop by."

"It was overdue," Ben found himself admitting. He nodded towards the wine. "Sit down and have a glass with me? I've been told it pairs very well."

"Yeah?" Larry looked surprised, giving a flash of a smile that was somehow even more endearing. "I'd love to. Thank you."

"Thank you for the duck," Ben replied, raising a hand to attract the bartender's attention, who brought over another glass, pouring for Larry. Ben focused on the plate. It certainly looked very nice, the pieces of popcorn duck spilling from a sleek black presentation box printed with the restaurant logo, plated around two generous dishes of sauce. He couldn't ever get away with putting a cardboard box on a plate, of course, but for Experimental it fit the kind of fun, relaxed atmosphere of the establishment. He picked up a piece and dipped the end in the orange sauce before popping it in his mouth.

He'd expected fast-food greasiness to overwhelm the subtle richness of the duck, expected the sauce to be cloying and too sweet. He was pleasantly surprised to find himself eating something else - the breading was crisp and fluffy, lightly seasoned and not at all greasy, surrounding a tenderly cooked nugget of succulent meat. The sauce was more flavourful than sweet and very complimentary. He chewed slowly, nodding. "It's good. Five-spice in the breading?"

"Yeah." Larry looked obviously pleased. "Thank you."

Ben nodded, trying another piece with the second sauce. The plum had a nice kick to it, and was significantly different enough to the orange while still being very complimentary. Ben told him so, and watched Larry glance down almost bashfully, giving a soft laugh. "Thanks. It's really nice of you to say so."

Ben shrugged, quietly wondering how he was finding this man so charming. "Just an accurate assessment. Sorry it's taken so long for me to come over here, by the way."

Larry shook his head. "Oh, no, it's - I mean, I'm sure you're incredibly busy over there. Congratulations on your first star, by the way."

"Thank-you. But it still would have been good professional courtesy for me to stop by when you started up, though."

"Oh, no no. I should have brought over a casserole. Neighbours and all."

Ben found himself laughing. "I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be the other way around."

Larry grinned, shrugging. "Well, now we have wine?"

"We do have wine." Ben pushed the second glass closer to him. "Care to test the talents of my partner?"

Larry took the glass, giving the wine a swirl and inhaling the scent. "Partner-partner, or just business partner?"

"Oh god. Just business partner. I'm divorced." Why was he saying this?

Larry gave a sympathetic nod. "The business," he agreed, eating a piece of the duck. He followed it with a sip of the wine, nodding slowly and giving a low, approving noise.

Ben followed suit, savoring the combination of flavors. "Oh, that's perfect."

"It's incredible. We might have to bring some of that in, if you don't mind. Tell me it's not too rare?"

"I have no clue, wine is one thing I'm very glad not to have to ever worry about. I don't think it's too expensive, though. Want me to ask Frank for you?"

"Yeah?" Again, Larry looked surprised. "I'd really appreciate that. How on earth did you secure yourself a master sommelier, anyway? There's only what, two hundred of them in the world?"

"Something like that." Ben chuckled, remembering. "It's more the reverse. My younger brother dated him for a short period of time and knew he was looking to open a high-end place. I'd been at Bouchon for five years at that point but the Chef de Cuisine wasn't showing any signs of moving on. Daniel connected us, it was an easy decision to strike out on my own."

"Seems like it was the right choice," Larry remarked, and Ben nodded. Was it, though? He couldn't help but wonder, sometimes, if Amy would have left him if he'd stayed at Bouchon. It wasn't that his hours were all that different. But he felt a much higher level of personal responsibility at _La Pâquerette_.

He didn't miss Amy. Not after seeing the person she turned into. But Daisy and Michael....

"Everything okay over there?" Larry asked quietly, and Ben realized he was brooding. He forced a smile.

"With the restaurant? Yeah. Managed to get through the initial craziness after the guide came out. Now we just have to get through Christmas."

"God, you're telling me. Can't imagine how much crazier it must be getting your first star." Larry shook his head, a little incredulous. "Still seems kind of surreal."

"I'm sure it's deserved," Ben replied, and realized that he actually meant it.

Larry gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. "I don't know. I feel like a very little fish in a tank with much bigger, shinier fish. Before all I really had to worry about was making bank and keeping the yelp reviews good. Now I have to make sure we can maintain enough consistency and quality to at least make the guide again next year."

Ben shrugged. "My brother seems to think this place is worthwhile. I'm inclined to agree, if this duck is any indication."

Larry shook his head again. "I think it's just a publicity ploy. I just met your brother, but if my social media guy is any indication... you know he was trying to convince me we should have a Duck Off?"

Ben almost choked on his wine, barely managing to swallow. "What?"

"I know. I don't know how he thought this could hold a finger to that amazing strudel of yours - "

"But - I'm sorry, a _Duck_ Off?"

Larry laughed. "Right? Completely ridiculous." He nodded towards the mostly empty plate. "Want to try anything else?"

"Oh, I shouldn't keep you...."

"No, no, it's slow. My staff can handle things. Let me at least bring out an order of the pork belly."

It was hard to say no to that smile. "Only if you'll help me finish this wine."

"Deal."

He was surprised at how easy it was to get lost in conversation with Larry, though perhaps the warmth of the wine helped with that. The Pork Belly was exquisite, along with the pair of beef skewers that somehow appeared on the bar in front of them afterward. While it was, undoubtedly, gastropub food, Ben couldn't help but recognize and approve of the complex and well-balanced flavour profiles. Part of him still felt like he ought to feel antagonistic about the place, but it was difficult to remember that resolution when the smiling ginger man drinking with him was just so _damn nice_.

A few bites into a piece of cheesecake that had a light and surprisingly delightful peppery, licorice taste to it, Ben had to push it away. "This is all really, really quite good, but I'm going to have to roll out your front door if I take another bite. More wine?"

Larry had a slight flush to his freckled cheeks and laughed, shaking his head. "Oh god. I'm good."

"Just help me finish it," Ben insisted, dividing the last little bit between their glasses. "And tell me you'll let me pay for at least some of this."

"Please don't. Anyway, you brought the wine." Larry took the glass and took a sip. "Seriously. It's an honor to host a chef of your calibre."

"Oh, stop." Why the hell did that make him feel bashful? "Come let me return the favor, then. Tomorrow afternoon, if you have time. Late lunch."

"Yeah?" Larry looked surprised. "Um, yeah, if you're sure?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? You're not the only one who likes to impress his peers."

If anything, Larry looked even more taken aback. "I, uh - yeah. Um, Hils - my Sous Chef, I mean - starts at three tomorrow, I could come over then if it's not too late?"

"Three is great." Ben pulled out his phone and swiped through to the new contact screen, then offered it to Larry. "Give me your number, I'll text you mine. And I'll ask Frank about this wine."

"Sure." Larry punched in his number, fingers warm against Ben's for a moment as he handed his phone back. "Thank you," he said, quiet and serious. "I really... this was fun. I'm really glad you stopped by."

"My pleasure," Ben replied, and meant it.

He'd left his car at La Pâquerette, which was dark and quiet when he returned. It was strange, when he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't locked up himself at the end of night. But it had been good, to get out. He got into his car and sent Frank a text.

_"How the hell did you know we'd get on?"_

By the time he'd driven the few blocks to home he had a reply.

_"Glad you had a good time. See you tomorrow."_

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon finds himself schooled by a Master Sommelier.

After closing Sunday night, the dining room dim apart from the warm pot lights over the bar, it was hard for Frank to ignore how very much like a date this felt. Every time he'd caught Leon's eye during the evening's service the other man's smile was achingly sweet, and Frank couldn't help but feel a bit like he was thundering towards something he was powerless to stop.

With a calm Frank didn't particularly feel, he set out a half dozen white wine glasses, paired, in slightly different heights in order to easily differentiate between them. They occasionally did wine tasting events at the restaurant, so he set one of the stainless steel spittoons out on the bar. Leon cast a curious look towards it. "Are we tasting a lot of wine?"

"No more than the average tasting lineup. Is that okay?"

Leon nodded. "I just don't have the opportunity to actually drink very often, so... I was hoping we could take our time and actually enjoy it...?"

Don't do it, Frank thought. "Sure," he said, and finished lining up first four wines.

"You're going to be adding a lot of sweetness with the fruit," he told Leon, "so you want something quite dry and crisp. Unoaked. Sauvignon Blanc is generally your best bet, so I've brought in two local vinyards to taste as well as the two on our menu. A Chardonnay can work if the flavours aren't too buttery, so we'll taste two of our selection and one I've brought in for contrast, as well as our Pinot Gris. Does that work?"

Leon nodded slowly, perching on the bar stool. "I... think so? You're the expert. Is eight enough?"

Frank draped his jacket over the end of the bar, then joined him. "I've narrowed the field down quite a bit already."

"Right." Leon smiled, sweet and undeniably shy. "Thanks for doing this for me."

Frank tried not to think about the way that smile made him feel.

He'd chosen one of the youngest bottles of Sauvignon Blanc first, pouring a generous splash in both Leon's glass and his own. "You can usually get a good idea how old a wine is by how dark it is, whites deepen with age. This one is quite young, when you look at how the light shines through it onto the linen you can see how bright and brilliant the color is."

"Shouldn't we let it age more before drinking, then?"

"It can, but this one doesn't need to. Any good wine will be produced with an optimum age range for drinking, most whites are meant to be drunk quite young. Don't try it quite yet, just try to inhale the scent. Through you mouth and your nose at the same time, if you can manage it."

Leon's eyebrows knit together adorably in concentration as he took a slow sniff. "How... is that possible?"

"It takes some getting used to. I find if you just open your mouth very slightly and breathe in, you'll pull through your nose a bit unconsciously. Our sense of smell is far more powerful and nuanced than taste, so smell is a big differentiator. A good bottle of wine will please every one of your senses."

Leon's eyebrows knit together more as he breathed in cautiously. "It... kind of just smells like wine? I'm sorry...."

"It's alright. It's a sense that needs to be trained, just like anything else." He poured the second wine into another glass for Leon, giving it a few hard swirls to aerate it before sliding it over. "Smell that in contrast."

Leon almost recoiled in surprise from the second. "Basil?"

Frank chuckled, nodding. "French Sauv Blancs can be very herby, depending on where they come from."

Leon looked perplexed. "They infuse the wine?"

"Oh no, the taste is from the grapes. It's a result of the acidity and minerals in the soil. Smell the first one again. Then have a sip." He poured himself a splash of the second and let it sit, tasting the first with Leon. This young vintage had a clean, crisp citrus taste to it, with subtle notes of grass and earthy fig. He let the flavours play over his tongue before swallowing, nodding towards Leon's glass. "The flavours will bloom more on the second sip. Hold it in your mouth and let it play on your tongue. Think about how it tastes after you've swallowed it."

Leon took another sip, seeming completely focused on doing so. He swallowed, then looked up at Frank. "There isn't really much aftertaste."

"That's because it's so young. What else?"

"It tastes... fresh. But not sweet. Would this really work in a Sangria?"

"In a good Sangria. If you used something overly sweet like a Riesling or a Moscato you'd just be piling sugar on top of sugar."

Leon's nose wrinkled adorably. "Frat house cocktails. Okay. Got it."

Frank took him through the four bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, discussing the different tastes, watching Leon studiously try and take it in. It was obvious that he had yet to develop much of his palette when it came to wine, but Frank had rather anticipated that; only two of the Sauv Blancs, the Pinot and two of the Chardonnays were really in the running for a good Sangria. He was pleased when Leon quickly vetoed the two sacrificial Sauv Blancs, and went ahead with taking the Chardonnays out of the chiller.

Leon savored his first sip slowly. "Wow. It tastes kind of sharp... maybe a bit pineappley?"

Frank nodded. "Good. This is a fairly tropical tasting varietal."

Leon smiled, taking another. "So... How does this compare to Beringer?"

Frank snorted. "As far as I'm concerned, Beringer is the Banana Republic of the wine world - an overhyped, overpriced, egotistical name on substandard swill. I could have brought in a bottle to compare, but I'd rather drink the kitchen vinegar."

"Ohhh...." Leon, surprisingly, looked relieved.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I, um..." Leon glanced down with a soft laugh, cheeks colouring adorably. "I just thought I didn't like white wine."

"Because you were drinking shit wine."

"I guess so. But it tasted okay in our sangria...."

Frank couldn't help but chuckle. "You were adding orange juice, yeah? There was probably so much sugar in it that it eclipsed the taste of piss."

"I guess that makes sense. This wouldn't need as much orange juice, for sure."

"Or maybe none. Once your fruit has soaked you can experiment with different combinations and see if it needs it."

"Good idea." Leon took another sip. "I like this. Maybe not as much as the two Sauv Blancs. Are the other Chardonnays the same?"

"This one's similar. The other's not at all. We wouldn't be able to use the other anyway, it's a small run. I just brought it in for comparison."

"Yeah?" Leon watched him open the vacuum stopper curiously. "From your own cellar?"

"Seemed a sin not to let you sample the best Chardonnay California has to offer." Frank poured a splash in his own glass, inhaling to make sure it was still optimally fresh - he'd opened it the night before after work - then pouring for Leon. "Chateau Montelena employes traditional French winemaking methods, all their vintages are quite excellent."

Leon took a careful sip, making a soft noise of exclamation, then taking another. "It's... rich? Like... almost creamy? Can wine be creamy?"

"Creamy, buttery. Depending on how it's aged and fermented, yes." Frank sipped his own, feeling inordinately fond as he continued to watch him. All the wines they'd sampled were fairly low proof, but he could feel a slight bit of warmth in his joints. It made him feel relaxed, and perhaps bolder than he should be. "They have a tasting room across from Union Square, actually. I could take you sometime, if you like."

"Yeah?" Leon looked surprised, then smiled. "I'd really like that."

They did another taste of the two Sauvignon Blanc before Leon settled on the first, which Frank rather thought was the better choice. "Still try both of them with your fruit combination, you might change your mind once they're mixed."

"Alright. You'll help me taste test, won't you?"

Was it his imagination or had Leon's stool gotten closer to his? He poured them both another generous portion of the Chateau Montelena "I'd be happy to."

"Ooh, you read my mind." Leon smiled as he took the glass, lifting it. "Thank you, this is really good. To our hopeful success with Sangria?"

"It'll be delicious," Frank agreed, clinking his glass to Leon's, savoring the flavor of the wine. "You have plans after this?"

"Me?" Leon shook his head with a soft laugh. "God no. I don't really have much of a social life. Got so used to working until three am at my uncle's. Now that I work more regular hours I'm not really sure what to do with myself, to be honest."

"Date?" Part of Frank was still very loudly protesting that he definitely should not be steering the conversation in this direction. Frank took another sip of wine and told it to shut up.

Leon glanced down. The tips of his ears were flushed red, though Frank wasn't sure if it was from self-consciousness or the wine. "Maybe, sometime... have to remember where to start. It seems like everybody's all about Grindr and meaningless hookups these days. That's not really what I'm looking for." He wet his lips, then glanced up at Frank through his eyelashes. "What about you?"

"Maybe sometime," Frank found himself echoing, fingers tracing the stem of his wine glass, suddenly unable to look away from the alluring dampness on the other man's pink lips. He needed a distraction. "Teach me to make something."

Leon smiled at the idea, cheeks flushing darker. "Me?"

"Of course. Since you've let me bore you with my area of expertise...."

Leon gave an incredulous laugh. "What? It's so fascinating. I'm just happy you've put up with my noobish lack of wine knowledge long enough to teach me something."

"You're a quick study," Frank reassured him. "And an expert in your own right. Show me how to mix drinks."

Leon turned towards him more on his stool, knees brushing Frank's thigh, and finished the last bit of his Chardonnay. "Sure, if you want. What do you want to make?"

"Hmm..." Frank looked along the rows of bottles behind the bar. "What about an 'Old Fashioned'?"

"Easy." Leon slid off his stool and rounded the bar. "With Bourbon, or Rye?"

"Which do you prefer?"

Leon grabbed a bar knife and used it to peel a generous slice of rind off of an orange, squeezing it and rubbing it around the rim of a squat glass before dropping it in the bottom. "Bourbon is sweeter, but Rye is more complex. I think we'll use Rye tonight." He dropped a cube of brown sugar in the bottom of the glass as well, then stopped. "What am I doing? You're supposed to be learning this. Get back here."

Frank joined him obediently. "Orange peel and brown sugar. Now what do I do?"

"Put just a tiny bit of water in the bottom of the glass, just enough to muddle the sugar into. A teaspoon or so. Then you muddle the hell out of it."

Frank added the water, then stared at the wooden dowel Leon handed him. "Muddle it?"

"Yeah. Just squish it until it's dissolved. Otherwise you'll end up with sludge at the bottom of your drink, sugar doesn't dissolve straight in spirits." He was surprised to find Leon's hand over his, warm and certain, guiding him to push the end of the muddler into the brown sugar cube and orange rind. The warmth of his skin was distracting, and it was even harder not to think about how close Leon was or how easy it would be to lean into him. Soon enough the sugar was crushed and dissolved into the water alongside the orange rind and as Leon released his hand his fingers seemed to linger, fingertips running over the back of Frank's hand as he pulled away.

He's crazy about you, Daniel had said....

He turned to watch Leon duck down to open one of the bar fridges, making a little triumphant noise as he returned with a sillicone mold that held one huge lump of ice. He squeezed it carefully into the glass, then grabbed a bottle off the back shelf. "Now add three ounces of rye and stir."

"Three ounces?"

Leon grinned. "You're the one that wanted to make an old fashioned. I'll get the cherries."

Normally he would have balked at the thought, but Leon had thrown out every jar of maraschino cherries in the bar when he started, making his own, which were as different from the fake plastic tasting red things as night and day. Frank finished adding the rye, stirring the drink around the large lump of ice with only a little difficulty. "Is that it?"

"Almost. This is your object lesson. Have a sip."

The drink tasted mostly like rye, though he could taste the slightly bitter citrus of the orange rind on the glass and the brown-sugar sweetness. "I can taste rye?"

"Right. Because you need bitters." He handed Frank a small bottle. "Two or three shakes, then stir. Bitters make the flavours bloom." He threaded two cherries on a long toothpick, then set it into a glass. "There's your old fashioned. Taste the difference?"

Frank took a slow sip, then another, letting the flavors play over his tongue. He could immediately understand what Leon was explaining. "Definitely. Now it's an old-fashioned." He offered the glass to Leon. "Want some?"

Leon smiled, taking it from him wordlessly and taking sip with a little approving hum. Then he handed the glass back, but took the toothpick, biting one of the cherries off the end and chewing. "Cherry?"

Frank could feel the rye warm him, mixing with the easy relaxation he'd felt from the wine. He took another sip, then leaned in to take the offered cherry, intentionally letting his lips brush Leon's fingers before pulling the fruit off with his teeth. He watched Leon's lips part with a soft intake of breath, the flush on his cheeks darkening, and suddenly Frank couldn't think of a single reason to resist this anymore.

He set the glass aside, moving his hand instead to grasp Leon's hip. The expression on Leon's face was one of such eager hopefulness that it pushed away the remainder of Frank's misgivings, and he leaned close to bring their lips together, slow and warm. 

He could feel Leon shiver against him as he arched close, and if Frank had thought it difficult to resist Leon before it was damn near impossible now. Leon gave a little noise against his lips, yearning and entirely needy, and Frank found himself answering before he could think, kissing him again, harder, licking past those soft pink lips. Kissing Leon was all sweetness and rye, Leon's arms wrapping up around his neck most delectably, fingers curling in his hair. He whimpered as Frank pressed him back against the bartop, gasping against Frank's lips between kisses and pulling him back into more.

Frank had to force himself to stop, to think about something other than the intoxication of his mouth and the little whimper of loss that left Leon's lips as he pulled away. He pressed a kiss to Leon's forehead, pulse racing, feeling like he couldn't quite catch his breath. "Do you want this? Don't pretend if you don't. I swear to you there'll be no repercussions, not ever. I promise you that."

Leon laughed, soft and breathless, shaking his head. His hands cupped Frank's face, pulling his face down to claim another kiss, sucking at his bottom lip. "I want this." His voice was low, husky, went straight to Frank's cock. "God, you have no idea how much. I wanted you the moment I saw you."

The idea was so appealing and yet so absurd that Frank couldn't help but give a soft chuckle. He drew back to look at him, cupped Leon's face with one hand, tracing his delicate features with his fingertips and feeling him shiver against him. "This stuffy old man?"

Leon only smiled, drawing him back into kisses, stroking his fingers over the front of his vest. "You please every part of me... like a good bottle of wine," he murmured, lips parting again eagerly to the press of Frank's tongue, and this time when he rolled his hips up against him Frank could feel an unmistakable hardness through his slacks.

Frank let his hands roam, stroking over the broad expanse of his back, drinking in the warmth that seeped through the fine cotton shirt. He splayed his hands against his waist, over those narrow hips, finally cupping the pert delectable globes of his ass. It made Leon whimper, hips giving a helpless little jerk against him, so Frank squeezed again gently, caressing and fondling that perfection until Leon was panting against his mouth, writhing and trembling in his arms, grinding his hips up against him with needy little whimpers.

"Please take me home," he gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as Frank began to kiss hungrily along his jaw. "Oh god, Frank, please...."

"Soon," Frank murmured. The taste of his skin was too intoxicating, the way he felt.... he grabbed Leon's ass securely and lifted, setting him on the edge of the bar so that he could free his hands to loosen Leon's tie and kiss that delectable throat.

"Oh!" Leon wrapped his thighs around his hips immediately, pulling him in, grinding up against him, cock hard and straining at the front of his pants. Frank pushed a hand between them to cup and palm his cock, drunk on the helpless, trembling cry it pulled from Leon's lips. It was hard not to think about what it would be like to fuck him like this, to pull off these fine wool slacks and lift his bare ass back onto the bar top, to push Leon's thighs up to his shoulders and bury himself in the sweet heat of his body. Part of him thought that Leon would let him. It was too tempting, so instead he fumbled Leon's slacks undone, pushing aside his shirt tails, pulling him from his underwear and curling his fingers around the hard, slender shaft of his cock.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you," he growled against his ear, nipping at his skin. The proof of Leon's arousal was intoxicating, the head of his cock slick against Frank's palm as he stroked him slow and firm. "Pretty young thing with your perfect little ass... Watching you wiggle your ass all day, wanting to drag you into my office and have my way with you...."

"Oh god...!" Leon gave a helpless little buck up into his touch. Then his hands were on Frank's cock, rubbing and stroking him through his slacks. "God, I wanted you to. I want you to. Oh god, can we?"

"Now?" the thought was suddenly, overwhelmingly appealing. And if they didn't move, he'd probably end up blowing Leon on the bar, which was certainly not a good idea when Ben could choose to come back at any time.

"I have condoms..." Leon leaned back, biting his lower lip. "Please... and then... will you take me home with you?"

Something in his expression seemed completely vulnerable. Frank moaned softly and leaned in to kiss him again, stroking the fingers of his free hand through Leon's hair. "Of course, sweetheart," he murmured, and kissed him again. "Want you... far more than just one fumbled night in the restaurant...."

Leon drew a shivering breath against his mouth, voice low, thick. "Please...."

"Shh... come on, sweetheart. Come with me. Promise I'll take care of you."

Once they were in his office with the door securely locked he pressed Leon back against his desk, pulling his tie off and making short work of the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his chest, lavishing attention on his nipples. He eased Leon's slacks down over his hips as he did, then reached back to pull over his desk chair. sinking down onto it and taking Leon's cock in his mouth.

"Oh!" Leon's fingers scrabbled against the slick silk of his vest, digging into his shoulders. His hips stuttered up helplessly into Frank's mouth. "Oh fuck, Frank, I - I can't - "

Frank eased away, blowing cool air along the length of his shaft, smiling at the whimper it pulled from his mouth. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes, yes, I just - I don't think I can last, and I....."

Frank pressed a kiss to his stomach. "Tell me what you want."

Leon grabbed his wallet from his slacks before letting them fall. Then he was pushing Frank back, straddling his lap, catching his mouth as he fumbled with Frank's slacks. "You. Please, Frank, however you want. Want to ride you, want you to push me over your desk, I want - "

Frank bit his lip on a groan as Leon's fingers curled around his cock. He cupped his ass with his hands, pulling him closer, pressing his fingers against his hole and moaning at the way it made Leon cry out. "Show me, then," he breathed, and in moments Leon had the condom rolled on him and his arms around Frank's neck, holding onto the back of his chair as he eased down onto his cock.

The heat of his body was overwhelming, everything about him was overwhelming, and Frank couldn't keep from tearing breathless kisses from his mouth, wanting to taste every whimper of pleasure. His fingers dug into Leon's ass, encouraging more. "Oh fuck, Leon...."

"So good...." Leon's hips bucked down hard, trembling, his voice a breathless cry against his mouth. Frank could feel his body clench and flutter around him, and it was all he could do not to pull Leon down onto him. "God, you're so big,...."

"Don't rush," Frank murmured, even as Leon rocked down harder, crying out against his mouth. He sheathed Frank to the hilt with a few, desperate little bucks of his hips, grinding down on him.

"God, Frank - !" Leon's arms tightened around his shoulders, moving harder on him, breath in hard, sharp gasps against his mouth. "Oh fuck yes... god, please fuck me, oh god please...."

It was easy enough to lift him, arms tight around his hips, pushing him back across his desk. Frank stole a shuddering cry from his lips with a hard kiss as he rocked into him, groaning at the exquisite sensation. "This what you wanted, sweetheart?" He breathed, starting a rhythm of hard, deep thrusts, rolling his hips up into him until the pitch of Leon's cries grew more desperate.

"Oh god yes - there - oh god, fuck - harder!" Leon was nearly incoherent with pleasure, and as good as it felt to finally be inside him, that was what really did it for Frank. Feeling Leon come undone in his arms, shuddering with pleasure and gasping for breath as they came together again and again.

"Come on, sweetheart," Frank breathed, picking up the pace. Leon gave a little desperate, mewling cry against his lips, shuddering in his arms as he clenched down around his cock. Frank let himself get lost in that sweetness, rocking up into him again and again, letting himself be completely overwhelmed by the exquisite pleasure of the beautiful man in his arms.

As they caught their breath, Leon gave a soft whimper. "Oh god, Frank, your suit...."

Adorable. Frank chuckled, pressing a kiss under his ear. "Don't worry about it."

"But...."

"Shh..." Frank drew back to kiss him warmly, smiling. "Are you saying that wasn't worth a little dry cleaning bill?"

"No! I - um - at least I hope...."

Frank chuckled softly, feeling an overwhelming surge of affection. "God, you're adorable. I hope you know I'm not going to let you out of my bed for a very, very long time."

Leon's breath caught. "... really?"

"Of course..." Frank drew back to look at him, running his fingers along his jaw. He was past the point of no return in this now, Frank thought, so damn if he wasn't going to make the most of it. "That's what you want, isn't it, sweetheart? You said you were tired of meaningless hookups...."

Leon managed a nod eyes wide, looking more than a little overwhelmed.

"Good...." Frank pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then his forehead, nuzzling his hair. "But if you want out, tell me. I meant that. You call the shots, Leon."

Leon arched closer to him, drawing a trembling breath. "... you're such a gentleman."

Frank couldn't help but chuckle, nuzzling his ear and lowering his voice. "Careful... you might not be saying that when you can't walk straight tomorrow."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets along with "the competition" far better than he could have ever anticipated.

When John woke up in the morning he was koalaed around a warm, naked body, which was generally his favorite way to wake up. But there was soft music playing, which meant "alarm" and "getting up", and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He gave a little disgruntled sound, tightening his arms around Daniel. "... mine."

Daniel gave a sleepy, amused hum, reaching out to fumble with his phone on the bedside table and turn off the alarm. The he turned into John for a kiss. "I have an appointment at 8am...."

John groaned. " 's it 8am already?"

A soft laugh. "No, it's 6am."

"Oh, fuck my life...."

Daniel chuckled softly, but pressed another warm kiss to his lips, lingering. John couldn't help but respond, sliding a hand down to cup his delectable ass. His tongue flicked against Daniel's lips, remembering more as he woke how very, very good the sex had been last night. "Don't go yet. Stay here. I'll make it worth your while...."

Daniel gave a low, appreciative noise against his lips, wrapping one leg up over his hip. "Mm... lover, you read my mind...."

It was all too easy to forget about the discomfort of being awake with Daniel's warm, willing body pressed close. John let his thoughts drift back to the night before as he filled his hands with the warmth of his skin. Dinner had been nothing but a build up to sex, murmuring flirtations that grew more and more lurid until John had a hard time not molesting him in the back of the car on the ride home. Even better was that Daniel lived alone - he'd never felt uncomfortable bringing someone home to the apartment he shared with Larry, of course, but no roommate meant that he didn't have to try to be appropriate or quiet himself.

They'd barely gotten into the apartment before Daniel's mouth was on his, kisses hot and frantic, pushing him up against the wall and arching against him until they were both hard and needy. Then his hand was in John's jeans, breath hot on his skin as he kissed along his jaw. "You want that blow job here, or in the bedroom?"

Despite how very good that sounded, John's sense of pride, aggravatingly, protested. "Not 'till I get you past nine thousand two hundred and thirty one followers."

Daniel have a surprised laugh. "We're close enough." He twisted his fingers around John's cock in a way that left him gasping for breath. "You're really going to argue semantics against you getting a blow job?"

"No, I - I mean yes, it's a matter of pride. I lost the bet...."

"Mmhmm..." Daniel purred, but John managed to catch hold of him before he sank to his knees. He pressed a hard kiss to his mouth.

"I'll do whatever else you want tonight. Anything. But I want to earn that. All right?"

Daniel chuckled softly, reaching up to cup his face with one hand as he pulled back to look at him. "What a peculiar boy you are, John Murdoch."

"Hopefully that's why you like me...?"

"Mmm." Daniel leaned in for another kiss, wrapping his arms up around his neck. "Well, if you lost the bet then you're just going to have to be my sex slave... and I'll make sure that it's a long, hard night."

John let himself be lead into the bedroom. "Mmm, yes sir."

They'd spent ages exploring and appreciating each other's bodies before finally falling asleep in exhaustion. Waking up to more kisses, John couldn't help but think that he could definitely get used to all of this - Daniel's naked body in his arms, the taste of his skin, the way his breath hitched as John worried his skin with his teeth. Driving Daniel nearly mad with lust the night before, then finally making love to him had been intensely gratifying, even moreso when Daniel had turned the tables on him afterward. And god, that man had an incredible cock.

He licked along Daniel's collarbone, sucking at his shoulder. The girth of Daniel's cock against his palm was perfect, and he moaned against his skin, stroking him slowly. "God... I've won the lottery, haven't I?"

Daniel chuckled, breath hitching as John worked his thumb against the head of his cock. "Flatterer."

"But it's true." John pouted as he turned his face up to him, only to have Daniel kiss it away, fingers teasing the underside of his cock. He sighed, arching up into the stimulation, wrapping an arm around Daniel's waist to pull him closer. "Wanna make love to you again...."

"Yes, please...." Daniel's reply was nearly a purr, and he let John pull him on top of him, straddling his hips, cock sliding against John's abs as he rocked against him slowly. He laughed as John made futile attempts to reach the supplies on the bedside table, leaning over and pressing them into his hand. "God, you're gorgeous."

"You? Yes." It only took a moment to prep himself. Then he ran both hands up his thighs and over his hips, cupping and squeezing his ass, revelling in the way Daniel looked when he moaned, eyes closing briefly as he rocked against him. He shifted to let John's cock press against the crease of his ass, grinding, then finally sinking down onto him, lips parting to a sign of pleasure.

"So gorgeous," John murmured, closing his eyes for just a moment, reveling in the tight, slick heat of Daniel's body. He arched up to meet him as Daniel slowly rocked onto him, stroking his hands up his chest and over his shoulders, then urging him down into his kisses. "Come here...."

Daniel came willingly, drinking in his kisses, crying out softly against his mouth as John gave a harder thrust into him. "Oh, yes...."

"Love being close to you," John murmured, repeating the motion, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. He slid his hands down Daniel's back to cup that delectable ass, pulling him into another thrust. "Fuck, love being inside you...."

Daniel's laugh caught on a soft cry, and he rocked down harder, rolling his hips on him. "Oh god, yes. So good, John, I - " John watched him bite his lip, a shudder running through him. "Fuck, please more...."

It was easy to brace his feet on the bed and give him what he wanted, burying himself inside him with a hard thrust, then drawing back and doing it again just to draw another of those delectable cries from Daniel's lips. "As much more as you want," he breathed, repeating the motion, burying himself in that blissful heat. "Fuck, Daniel... whenever you want, whatever you want.... so fucking good being with you...."

Daniel kissed him with a breathless whimper, nipping at his bottom lip, kisses quickly turning to cries as John picked up the pace. "Yes, yes, oh fuck...!"

John clenched his ass, fingers digging in as he let go completely, fucking up hard and fast. He couldn't help but feel like everything about this was extremely gratifying - the pleasure of fucking him, of Daniel's breathless, mewling cries against his lips, becoming increasingly more desperate and unrestrained. Daniel pushed himself up on his arms to buck down onto him, eyes closed in pleasure, and John fought to keep his own vision clear, riding the edge of his own orgasm but unwilling to let this end, needing to drink in the sight of Daniel losing himself to pleasure completely. His hips stuttered up hard against him, certain he couldn't last another moment, and he was finally rewarded with a helpless, gasped cry, with Daniel's body shuddering around him as he ground his ass down onto his cock, coming in slick spurts on John's stomach and chest.

"Perfect," he gasped, and the world blacked out to pleasure as he came.

"Tell me I can see you again," he murmured as they curled together afterward. He stroked one hand through Daniel's hair, enjoying the slide of silk on his skin. "So good, being close to you...."

"I'd like that. When?"

John brushed his lips against his. "Tonight. Every night."

"You're off at three... you won't get any sleep...."

"I can go home and sleep more after you go to work."

Daniel gave a soft groan at the reminder, pulling away. "Speaking of. I'll drop you home?"

John prudently refrained from pouting, finding his clothes and dressing while Daniel showered, straightening the bed clothes a little. When Daniel finally dropped him off at his apartment he leaned in for a slow, long kiss. "Tonight. If 3am is too late just come see me at the restaurant. I just want to see you."

Daniel smiled, soft and sweet, reaching up to cup his cheek as he pressed another kiss to his mouth. "I promise. I want to see you, too."

When he unlocked the apartment door he was surprised to see Larry already awake at the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee, browsing on a laptop. He glanced up at John and smirked. “Good night?”

“Oh my god, don’t even get me started.” The coffee pot on the burner was still half full, so he poured himself a cup. “I need to keep this one, Lar. He’s amazing. Not just in bed, either, though that was fucking fabulous. Just like, everything. I’m so twitterpated.”

“Yeah?” Larry watched him with a little smile. “Good. He seems really great. I’m glad you’re getting on.”

John settled on the stool next to him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You should think about dating again, you know. Ok Cupid seems to be a pretty good investment.”

“Maybe.” Larry took another sip of his coffee, looking contemplative. “Hey… weird question, but… did you know his brother was going to come over last night?”

“Ben? To the restaurant?” John tried to think back over the evening. “I don’t think Daniel said anything. I don’t think he would have known. He’s been really hesitant about telling Ben anything, like almost paranoid about it. I haven’t even asked to meet him. He just showed up?”

“Yeah.” Larry nodded slowly, obviously just as mystified. “He brought over a bottle of that wine their Sommelier recommended, said he just wanted to try the duck. He was actually really nice.” He blinked up at John a little owlishly “John… he called me a _peer_.”

“Yeah?” John raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“To a Michelin-rated chef?”

“Which you are.”

“No, I - that doesn’t count! He’s got a star, I just barely made the guide! John, his food is incredible, I’m not anywhere near in his league!”

John chuckled and sipped his coffee. “If you say so.”

“You had that duck on Saturday. God, that strudel...”

“It was pretty incredible,” John agreed. “What did he think of yours?”

Larry let out a long breath. “He was really complimentary, actually. About everything I fed him.”

“He stuck around past the duck?”

A nod. “Yeah, we shared the bottle of wine. He stayed for quite a while, actually.” His eyebrows knit together. “And then he invited me for lunch….”

“Yeah? Like a date?”

“Oh god no. I mean, I don’t think so. Just food at his restaurant. I don’t think that’s a date. Do you think that’s a date?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. Daniel hasn’t said anything about whether or not he swings that way. Is he as hot as Daniel?”

Larry shook his head slowly, letting out a long breath. “He’s fucking gorgeous. Like, unfairly gorgeous. Daniel’s good looking and all but… I had some incredibly inappropriate fantasies about him slamming me up against a wall. Like, that man could wreck me any way he wanted, holy shit.”

“That hot, hm?” John chewed his bottom lip. “Wonder how he feels about threesomes…”

Larry jabbed John in the ribs with his elbow. “Stop that.”

“Ow! What, boy can dream, can’t he? Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. You’ve got dibs if he’s gay. Anyway, I can’t imagine anyone being more amazing than Daniel.” He eyed Larry, thinking. “You know… I could get Daniel to put in a good word for you.”

Larry glared at him. “Absolutely not. You two have already done enough, thank you. Just let me enjoy a nice lunch with a nice man who’s cooking for _me_ for once.”

“Of course.”

“John.” Larry grabbed his forearm before he could lift his coffee cup again. “I mean it. Promise me.”

Larry was far more instant than John was used to him being about anything. He gave Larry a soft smile. “I promise. You must really like this guy, huh?”

Larry glanced away, letting go of his arm. “... it was just nice. I don’t have any expectations that this’ll go anywhere. Just hoping we can talk every once and awhile. I don’t really get out much these days.”

"I'm sure it'll work out," John found himself replying, patting his back. Despite his promise, he couldn't help but wonder if there was some other way he could help things along a bit. Seeing Larry happy would have been enough of a motivation in and of itself, but if he could somehow get him dating Daniel's brother....

He set down his half-full coffee cup. "I'm going to nap before shift."

Larry raised an eyebrow. " _After_ coffee?"

"After the night I had? Coffee's not going to make a lick of difference." John winked, then disappeared into his room, falling asleep to vague thoughts of Daniel and Larry with someone who looked very much like him.

* * *

 

"You know, I've been thinking...."

Whatever Ben was thinking, Larry found himself hoping it wasn't dessert. He was certain the seven dishes that had appeared on the table throughout what had supposed to have been a light lunch were only sampler portions, but between that and the bottle of very nice wine they'd shared he wasn't sure if he was going to fit into his chef's jacket back at work. "Thinking that you're gonna make me too fat to get out of this chair?"

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. "You? Come on. I have to run five miles every morning just to keep from looking like the Michelin Man, how the hell do you stay so trim?"

"Yeah? Me too. What's your beat?"

"The bay. Up Embarcadero and out along the Aquatic Park Pier. You?"

"I'm a big fan of running the bridge. Nothing like the cold ocean breeze to clear your head."

"Mmm." Ben nodded. "That's a pretty run. Takes a while to get out there with the traffic."

Larry shrugged. "Not so bad if it's not rush hour. But maybe I'll run your route sometime."

"Yeah?" God, that man's smile could light up a room. "I'd welcome the company."

"Then I'll look forward to it." Larry tried to tell himself that the warmth that he felt was just a result of the wine. "Sorry, you were saying?"

"Oh - right. That Duck-Off your social media guy was trying to talk you into."

Larry groaned. "Oh god, don't pay any attention to that. Today he was trying to convince me that we needed to see who had the best buns."

Ben snorted. "Classy. I was thinking something a little more marketable. Joint menu or a kitchen switch or something. Not now, obviously. Maybe in the January lull, before the Valentine's rush."

For a long moment Larry could only stare at him. "I'm sorry... what?"

Ben glanced away with a soft laugh. "Dumb idea?"

"No, no. Um, just didn't really expect - I mean, I'm sure there's better restaurants, and you don't exactly need the publicity...."

"I don't know about that. I mean yeah, getting a Michelin star has been a hell of a thing for business, but... I kind of worry about staying relevant, you know? Wouldn't be a bad idea to get into bed with a trendy place like Experimental."

Larry conscientiously pushed all thoughts of innuendos from his mind. "Food this good will never be irrelevant."

Ben's smile was soft and pleased. "Maybe. But I still feel like...." He stopped, looking out at the restaurant. "I just got to thinking the other day... maybe I've been too caught up in getting that star. Stopped thinking about why I started doing this in the first place. You have the right idea, you know. Focus on making good food that'll make people happy and the quality and consistency will follow."

It was such a flattering thing to say that Larry felt his cheeks heat, and he gave a laugh to cover it. "I don't really think it's as noble as you make it sound."

Ben shrugged. "Maybe. But let's talk about it again after New Years. If you're still interested."

He looked so beautifully intent that Larry couldn't say no, even though part of him wondered if it was a good idea to complicate his life by spending time with this gorgeous and most probably straight man. But this was just a friendship, right? He'd enjoyed their time together far too much to say no. "Yeah, for sure. Thanks."

* * *

 

"Come with me to Experimental," Daniel said on Wednesday evening as service was winding down. "Let Frank lock up. John's been working on a new cocktail. You two should actually meet."

It was strange for Ben to contemplate, leaving early twice in less than a week. But dinner had been grindingly busy, and the thought of sitting back down at the bar for a nightcap was unexpectedly soothing. Plus, with the amount he'd heard about John from both Daniel and from Larry when he'd come for lunch, it was probably time to meet the man himself.

Ben reached up to run his fingers through Daniel's hair teasingly, chuckling as he ducked away. "Oh, is this 'meet the family' levels of serious already?"

"Ben!" Daniel pouted as he smoothed his hair back into place. "It's just a drink. Be nice."

Ben pressed a kiss to his brothers temple. "Alright, liebling. I promise I won't embarrass you."

He liked the atmosphere inside Experimental, he decided. Maybe because it was a well run restaurant that wasn't his own. It maybe, after having actually met Larry, he couldn't help but want to make up for feeling so much animosity towards them for so long.

So when Larry slipped into the stool beside him just after John had passed him his drink, Ben just gave him a smile. "Took you long enough."

It wasn't that he was trying to find reasons to meet up with the other chef. They just seemed to conveniently happen. Their schedules synced up on mondays through Thursdays when La Pâquerette opened later, so they started running together, keeping pace along Embarcadero with surprising ease despite the morning crowds of tourists. Then Leon needed opinions on his sangria. A few days later Larry texted him an open invite to come sample their holiday charcuterie. After seeing the swill Larry brought to work in the morning it was easy to bring over a proper Parisian style double espresso in the morning a half hour before his restaurant was due to open. And if Larry inevitably talked him into staying for a beer in the evening when he came to pick up his travel mug... Well. They had a lot of missed neighboring to catch up on.

Plus it felt good, to let himself step away from things for a few minutes. To admit that the restaurant could survive in the capable hands of his staff for a short while and take some time to catch his breath. It was easy, being around Larry, knowing that he’d understand his frustrations in that innate way that only another restaurateur could.

And if he spent most of Christmas day wishing that Larry was with them when he went for dim sum with Daniel and John, well... that was only natural, wasn't it?

The day after Christmas a text buzzed through on his phone just before two in the afternoon. _”Have a free moment? Sauteeing lobster mushrooms. You need to eat some.”_

Lobster mushrooms? Ben took stock of the kitchen. Things had settled down nicely after the lunch rush, and May had just come in. Reservations were heavy, but they’d stay steady until closer to 4pm. He gave his sous chef a smile as she buttoned her coat. “Can you spare me for fifteen?”

“Sure. Going next door?” May’s smile seemed smug; Ben chose to ignore it.

“Lar said something about Lobster mushrooms. Figured I’d swing by for a couple.”

“Ooh. Haven’t seen those for a while. Have fun.” Was that a goddamn wink?

 _”Be there shortly,”_ he texted back, pulling his coat on over his chef jacket and slipping out the back of the restaurant.

He’d started going in through Experimental’s kitchen entrance, which was less conspicuous when you were bringing someone else’s drinks into a restaurant, even if it was Parisian-style espresso. The door was propped open when Ben reached it, buttery smelling steam wafting into the chilly December air. He slipped in to find Larry at the saute station beside Sarah, his head line cook, expertly tossing a large skillet full of thinly sliced lobster mushrooms, the red-edged white fungus appropriately festive looking.

Larry glanced up to see him, and gave a wide grin. “Come in! You've got good timing. These should be about done.”

“They smell amazing. What did you do them in?”

“Tiny bit of garlic and an imperial fuckton of butter,” Larry replied, smirking. He took the skillet to a plating station, pouring a good amount on a plate and grabbing two forks. He left the remainder behind. "Dig in guys, before they go cold!" he called over his shoulder, joining Ben. "Mushrooms?"

Ben took the offered fork and speared a piece, stepping back into the entryway and out of the bustle of the kitchen. The mushroom slice was almost too hot to eat, and he sucked air in along it to cool it before final being able to chew. It was worth almost burning his tongue, though. The lobster mushroom had a delicate seafood flavor enhanced by the butter and garlic, and the perfectly cooked texture was pleasantly firm. "Mm. Perfect. Always wished I could put these things on the menu."

Larry swallowed a mouthful of mushroom. "Why don't you? You could easily charge enough."

Ben shook his head. "Not enough of a consistent supply. Or consistent quality, really. I've brought them in a few times to use in meatless options for a few set course menus, but that's all." He speared another piece, savoring. "Mmm. Thank you. Where'd you get these from, anyway?"

Larry gave a little half shrug, looking fond. "Hooked up with an old friend yesterday. Lucky bastard got himself a private chef gig, clients are in Hawaii for the holidays so we went mushrooming. Thought about trying to do something complex with them like a mushroom bisque but it's not like I have time to cook outside of work." He snorted at the thought.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Hooked up?"

"We're not serious, no need to be jealous...." Larry looked suddenly awkward, before the words had even left his mouth. "Uh, shit, I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm not," Ben assured quickly, even though he suddenly felt completely the opposite. But that was absurd. What the hell was there to be jealous of? "I mean, I don't - it's none of my business. Um. These are really good."

"Thanks." Larry glanced away, lips pursing, and Ben suddenly felt like he was looking at the other man for the first time. There was something undeniably very attractive about him, he realized, though he wasn't sure he could define it - something in the set of his jaw and the freckles on his skin, the little laugh lines around those clear blue eyes. And those lips, almost far too lush to belong to a man, which Ben was so used to seeing in welcoming smiles or infections grins. They were thoughts that were all completely unanticipated and somewhat unsettling.

"Well... this got unexpectedly awkward." Larry forced a grin. "Uh, I guess I should let you go back to your kitchen...."

“I didn’t mean to make things awkward,” Ben said, feeling suddenly anxious, and Larry’s smile softened.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? We can talk later, if you want.”

“Sure,” Ben replied, though he couldn’t imagine what on earth he was even going to say.

Halfway through dinner service he fished his phone out to send a text. _”I’m sorry for being inappropriate.”_

 _”I think I’m the guilty party there,”_ came the reply, a little later. _”I should be the one apologizing.”_

Ben found himself shaking his head as he typed back. _”No, don’t. Listen, Lar, I like you. I like... whatever this is we've been doing. It's been a long time since I've felt a connection with anyone. I like it. I don't want it to stop.”_

_”It doesn't have to. It doesn't have to be anything more than what you want. I mean, yeah I think you're attractive, I'd have to be dead not to. But that’s not why I want to spend time with you.”_

He… what? Ben stared at the text message for a long moment, suddenly feeling hot and cold at once. Did he really...?

“Two fillet mignon one grilled salmon, walking,” May called out, setting two skillets in front of him. “... you okay, boss?”

“I’m fine,” Ben replied automatically, setting down his phone and starting to plate.

“You look like you need to sit down,” May said gently. “Let me run things for a bit, okay? Go take a breather. We’re doing fine here.”

Ben forced himself to pull a deep breath, looking around the kitchen. things did seem to be well in hand, with only a few orders in the queue. He nodded. “We’re here and here on these tickets. I’ll be back in a few.”

Closing the door to his office behind him, Ben sank down into his chair, running his fingers through his hair. Then he dialed Daniel.

“Hey love. Everything okay at work?”

“Yeah…” Ben started, then stopped. How could he even begin to explain what was going through his head when he didn’t even understand himself? “Is Larry gay?” he blurted finally.

On the other end of the phone, Daniel was quiet for a moment. His voice sounded careful when he spoke. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.”

“Why?”

“I….” Ben let his hand rest on his free hand, elbow on the desk. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk?” Daniel sounded slightly worried. “I’m alone right now. I have time if you do.”

Ben sighed. “I like him,” he muttered, staring down at his desk. “It’s been a really, really long time since I’ve just been able to talk to someone about something that’s not work. When I think about spending time with him I just… I feel lighter.”

“I can tell how much the friendship means to you,” Daniel replied, and Ben couldn’t help but wonder if he spoke to his clients like this - careful, calm, but still caring. “So why does it matter if he’s gay?”

“I don’t know,” Ben said again, feeling more helpless. “I just… I feel so awkward right now. I think I put my foot in my mouth earlier.”

“How so?”

“I accidentally told him I felt jealous. But I… I don’t know, maybe I am. I can’t explain it. It's not like I don’t want him to have other friends, I know he’s got John and some of his other staff, it’s not anything like that. I just… I started feeling this weird jealousy and I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” Daniel replied. “Listen, _mien herz_. You’ve been pretty socially isolated for quite some time. I’m so happy you’ve been spending time with Larry. Just keep doing what you enjoy. Don’t think about trying to define it. You don’t need to complicate things. You enjoy his company and he enjoys yours. That’s all that matters right now. Right?”

“I guess so.” It was an aggravatingly logical way of thinking. But then, that had always been Daniel’s strength. “Just… can you tell me one thing?”

“Sure.”

“Is he gay?”

Daniel sighed softly. “Ben… yeah. He is. I thought it would have been pretty obvious by now.”

“I’m sorry. You know I don’t think about things like that. I mean, it took me almost six months before I realized that Amy was trying to get into my pants. Not that I’m saying I think he’s trying to.” Or was he? Ben tried to think over their time together. No. Larry was being completely frank with his most recent text, he was certain of that.

“Nothing needs to change unless you want it to,” Daniel replied. “Don’t freak out on him, okay? Promise me.”

The thought of doing so produced an unexpected pain in his chest. “I won’t,” he replied, voice unexpectedly husky. “I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“I better get back to work… thanks, Daniel.”

Surprisingly, he found his nerves settled after talking to Daniel, and took comfort in the familiar pattern of expediting, calling orders and plating food. It was nearly two hours before he realized he’d gotten a text from Larry, around half an hour after his last one.

_”Sorry, is everything okay?”_

_”Yeah,”_ he wrote back, _”Sorry, I got caught up with service, didn’t mean to ignore you. Do you have a moment? Can we talk somewhere?”_

_”Sure. Meet you in front of the drycleaners in 10?”_

Ben handed off the kitchen to May, pulling his coat on over his jacket and heading out the back. When he got out to the main road he could see Larry already waiting, arms wrapped around himself, breath just visible in the chilly night air. Larry took a few steps to meet him, obviously distressed. “Look, please forget I sent that text. I didn’t mean to make you feel - I know I fucked up, just please - “

Maybe it was because of how flustered Larry was, or the way his cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed pink in the cold. Or maybe it was because of the way Ben had felt earlier when he’d suddenly found himself jealous, found himself looking at his friend in a way he’d never thought about before. Maybe there was no reason for it except wanting to comfort him. Regardless of the reason, Ben found himself stepping close, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. Larry froze mid sentence, surprise and confusion both flickering across his expression, and then all Ben could think about was the way Larry's lips felt pressed against his, the tip of his nose cold against his cheek, his breath a sharp gasp against Ben's mouth.

Whatever it was he’d been feeling earlier quickly came back in full force, and Ben found himself kissing him again, lips parting against the lush softness of his friend’s. He slid his fingers into Larry’s hair, and he felt Larry’s move to cup the back of his shoulders, light and trembling, as if afraid to completely touch him. His lips parted without hesitation to the brush of Ben’s tongue, yielding, returning his tentative caress, but then he finally pulled back with a soft, trembling sigh.

“Ben, what are we doing?”

Ben still didn’t know if he could answer. He kept his eyes closed and let his forehead press to Larry’s, feeling too vulnerable to let go of him. “I… Lar, I haven’t been with anyone in a really, really long time,” he admitted finally, swallowing hard. “I still don’t know if I’m ready. I just… I really like you.”

Larry’s breath hitched audibly, and he leaned into him ever-so-slightly. “I really like you, too." 

Ben nodded slowly, then drew a deep breath, looking up at him. "Do you want more than friendship?"

Larry glanced away, swallowing visibly. "I want whatever you do," he said, voice low.

"Lar...."

"Don't. I mean it. Listen, Ben, I'm almost 40. I'm not about to base someone's importance in my life on whether or not I can get my rocks off. I just like being with you. Whatever you want that to be is fine. Alright?"

His words had a certain brittleness to them, an undertone of worry. Ben moved his hand back to cup his cheek before he could stop himself, needing to somehow comfort him despite not knowing how to answer. He ran his thumb along Larry's cheekbone and watched his friend's eyes close, felt him shiver. "I'm not sure if I can answer that yet," he said, finally. "I'm sorry."

Blue eyes flicked up to his. "Do you still want to spend time together? Just what we've been doing?"

"Of course I do."

"Okay." Larry let out a slow breath. "Then we'll start there. If you decide you want something else, just tell me. Okay?”

I want to kiss you again, Ben thought, and almost leaned in to do so before catching himself. He forced himself to nod, moving his hand to rest lightly on Larry's shoulder. "I've never been with a man."

Larry's eyebrows knit together, a little uncertain. "Okay?"

"It's not like that." Ben lifted his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose against the beginnings of a headache. "I just... I don't really go looking for relationships. I've told myself since my wife left me that dating wasn't worth the time and effort - "

"Ben, we don't have to - "

"It doesn't feel like that with you." He looked up at his friend, aching for him to understand, knowing it was hopeless when he didn't even understand himself. How long had it been since he'd wanted someone like this? But would he even still feel like this tomorrow? Was this just some passing desire born from jealousy and the revelation of Larry's attraction to him? "I'm sorry, I know I'm fucked up and if you don't want to bother with that then I'll understand - "

"Hey. Stop. Stop." Trembling fingers brushed his lips briefly, then moved to rest on his shoulder. "You aren't fucked up. I want to be here. Okay? We'll just figure things out as we go along. Even if we never go further than this. I still want to be here. Can you trust me on that?"

He looked so anxious that Ben couldn't bring himself to disagree. He nodded. "All right."

"Thank you." Larry gave a soft smile, relieved, then glanced away. "... should probably keep this on the down low for now, though."

The suggestion relieved Ben; he could see John being far too gleeful about the possibility, and the last thing he wanted was to have to justify himself to anyone, let alone Larry's best friend. "Yeah. Thanks." Then he forced himself to step back, catching Larry's hand briefly and giving it a squeeze. "I should get back. Coffee tomorrow?"

Larry nodded, returning the squeeze before pulling away. "I'd like that. Goodnight, Ben."

"Goodnight," Ben replied, watching his friend turn and walk back towards his restaurant and feeling his heart ache with longing.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John brings Daniel lunch, worries, and social media triumphs.

Other than Christmas day, Daniel didn't shut down his practice over Christmas. The holidays were a far more stressful time than anyone wanted to admit, but even though he rarely had many regular appointments booked ahead of time, by the time the week between Christmas and New Years rolled around he not only had a fully booked schedule, but several after-hours appointments as well.

It was grueling, but worth it.

His eleven o'clock appointment had just left when a knock came on his office door. Daniel bit back a groan. The beginnings of a headache were already forming behind his eyes. The practice's receptionist, while well-meaning, was the last person he wanted to talk to. "Jenny, I can't take any more appointments. Take an early lunch."

"Early lunch?" The door pushed open to bright green eyes and an impish smile. "That sounds like the perfect plan."

Despite the headache, Daniel found himself smiling, turning his desk chair towards him. "John. Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Christmas had been just as grueling for his lover, working fourteen hour days to cover the rush. Still, it was easy enough for Daniel to catch a solid four or five hours of sleep in the evenings in time to get up and meet him at Experimental to go home with him when he got off work shortly after 2am. The hard part was leaving a warm bed and a cuddly naked lover at six in the morning to go home and get ready for work.

John flicked the lock on the door behind him before setting a delicious smelling paper bag down on his desk, then leaned down for a warm kiss. "Anna's going to cover the first half hour." He kissed Daniel again, longer, nipping lightly at his bottom lip, trailing his fingers down his tie. "Figured that was enough time... to come here... bring you lunch... and celebrate...."

The low, husky tone of his lover's voice made Daniel's heart beat faster. "Celebrate?"

"Mmmhmm...." John's fingers traced down his midline, then strayed to stroke over the top of his thigh. His free hand tangled in the back of Daniel's hair, clenching tight in the strands. He tilted Daniel's head back more as his kisses became more demanding, tongue delving past his lips to taste him. Daniel couldn't help but shiver at the show of force, feeling his cock twitch in arousal in his pants. 

He whimpered against John's lips, trying to catch his breath as John nuzzled along his jaw to suck at the side of his neck. "Celebrate what?"

"You have nine thousand two hundred and twenty eight Twitter followers as of thirty minutes ago," John breathed against his ear, sliding his hand up the inside of his thigh. "Which means I haven't kept my commitment to you yet...."

Daniel drew a shivering breath. "I could check again now...."

"No, not now. Later. For now..." he placed his hand against Daniel's cock, drawing back to look at him, palming him through the soft wool slacks and encouraging his arousal. He smiled at Daniel's whimper. "Mmm, that's it. For now I'm going to continue to pay my pennance by worshiping this gorgeous thick cock of yours...."

It was hard to think about arguing, with John's nimble fingers quickly coaxing him to full hardness. "In my office? The receptionist - "

"I know you can be quiet," John purred. He kissed him again, his own breath a little laboured. Then he sank to his knees, stroking his hands up Daniel's thighs and pushing them apart. Grabbing his hips, he pulled them to the edge of his chair as he leaned in to nuzzle his cock through his slacks.

Daniel bit his lip on a moan. "You're going to kill me, you know," he breathed, fingers clenching the arms of his chair.

"The little death? I certainly hope so." John's breath was hot on his cock even through the wool of his slacks, nuzzling and rubbing his face against him. "But if you want me to stop...."

"Don't stop," Daniel found himself saying, stroking his fingers through John's messy curls. "God, please...."

"Are you sure?" John moved as if to undo his pants but stopped, hand resting lightly over his now very hard cock where it strained at the front. "Maybe I should behave myself...."

Daniel clenched his fingers in his hair, hips giving a small buck up against his hand before he could stop himself. "John, please...."

John wet his lips, green eyes dark as he looked up at him. "Tell me what you want me to do, lover."

Daniel bit his lip on a moan. He'd never have thought he would find it so appealing in a lover, this particular mix of playful teasing and submissiveness. But when they'd started playing at John being his slave, he was surprised at how arousing he found it to command the pleasure he wanted. "John. I want you to undo my slacks and use that cheeky mouth of yours to swallow my cock until I come down your throat."

John gave a low, appreciative moan, leaning in to mouth at his cock again. It only took him a few moments to pull his pants open and pull him from his boxers, hands rubbing the top of his thighs as he licked hungrily up the underside of his shaft. Then he curled one hand around the base of his cock, holding him in place and stroking slowly as he lavished licks and kisses to the head of his cock.

Daniel had to bite his lip to hold back a moan. Somehow John had the most talented, dexterous tongue, and he knew just how to use it, teasing the underside of his head, flicking the tip against the frenulum, then pressing into the slit. Then he let it flatten, teasing him with long, slow laps until Daniel was breathless, nearly squirming in the chair. He tightened his fingers in John's hair. "Fuck, please...."

John smirked against his skin, looking up at him through his eyelashes as his lips finally parted over the head of his cock. Sucking lightly, he began to bob on him, groaning softly around him as his lips slid further down the length of his cock.

It was hard not to moan, not to be immediately overwhelmed by the slick, eager heat of John's mouth. "So good," he gasped, letting his fingers press into the back of John's neck. He already knew how much John appreciated the encouragement, but he could feel it now in the groan that vibrated through him, in the way John half choked as he eagerly swallowed around the head of his cock. Daniel had to hold his breath to keep from crying out. "Shhh," he breathed, running his nails down the back of his neck. "Know how hard it makes you to have my cock in your mouth," he breathed, hips arching into his mouth just a little. "Have to be quiet, love... be quiet and you can stroke yourself off while you suck me...."

John moaned softly around him, moving his hand from the base of Daniel's cock to yank at his jeans. He swallowed around him again as he did, lips sliding down to the base of his cock, working his tongue against him as he pulled back. He gave a brief, hard suck at the head of his cock before repeating the motion, throat muscles tight around him.

"Fuck..." It was hard not to thrust up into his mouth, especially with the hungry little moans John was making as he tugged on his curls. As incredible as John's mouth was, what quickly drove Daniel towards orgasm was his unfettered enthusiasm, jerking himself as he sucked him down hungrily. His free hand clenched at Daniel's hip, tugging until Daniel finally let himself move, bucking up helplessly to thrust past his lips.

"God, I'm so close," he managed to gasp, and John whimpered desperately around him, fingers digging into his hip to hold him in place. He took him to the hilt and then swallowed again, throat squeezing the head of his cock, and Daniel had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out as the world went white around him.

"I came on your floor," John said, once he could speak again, breathless and inordinately proud.

"Good thing I have hardwood," Daniel replied, still feeling dazed, and groped for the box of kleenex on his desk. He ran his fingers through John's hair. "Oh my god."

John gave a smug little chortle and pressed a kiss to his thigh before leaning back, wiping off his fingers and the floor. "Will that get you through the rest of the afternoon?"

"Until I can meet you after work and return the favor? Definitely." Daniel smiled, running his fingers along his jaw. "Thanks for coming by."

"Most definitely my pleasure." John kissed his fingers before standing, then leaned down to place another to his lips. Then he leaned back to half-perch on the edge of his desk. "Hey... maybe this is a weird question, but... has Ben said anything to you about Larry? I know they've been spending a lot of time together... Larry's been really distracted these past few days."

Daniel chewed on his bottom lip, thinking back to the conversation he'd had on the phone with Ben. "Bad distracted?"

"I'm not sure. Just... weirdly distracted. He normally talks to me when he's stressed out but he's kind of shrugged it off...." John's eyebrows knit together worriedly. "He says things are just casual, but I really think he's got it bad for your brother. And Ben seems really great and all, but he also seems... really straight."

"Ben is...." Daniel let out a long breath. "My brother... he's a very all or nothing kind of person. He keeps people at arm's length because once he lets himself feel he feels so deeply, John. When his wife cheated on him and then took the kids...." Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. "He almost stopped talking even to me. The restaurant became everything to him. I've never, ever seen him open up to someone like he's opened up to Larry."

John glanced down, a soft smile on his lips. "Larry kind of inspires it."

"I'm glad of it," Daniel replied softly.

"He's also kind of like family," John continued, looking up at him. "I don't want to see him hurt. Should I be worried?"

"I'm not entirely sure that Ben's straight as much as he's just... not really driven by sex. He won't hurt Larry. He cares too much for that. I'm hoping that... given time, if I just let him figure himself out... maybe it'll become something more."

John nodded slowly, then smiled. "Okay. I trust you."

"Thank you." Daniel stood, sliding his hands around his waist and tilting his head up for a kiss. "And for coming to see me. I really... I'm really happy, spending time with you."

"Me too." John smiled, nuzzling in for another kiss. "Oh! Oh my god, I almost forgot. We went viral on tumblr!"

"... tumblr?" Daniel peered up at him over his glasses. "We're not even on tumblr."

"Yes we are. Well, I mean, I am. And I found us. Here, look!" He fished his iPhone out of his back pocket, thumbing through a few things before handing it to him.

Daniel stared down at the thread of posts on John's phone screen.

".... why do I have a terrible mustache?"

"Well, they're really just anthropomorphic representations of our restaurants. Maybe inspired a bit by the pics of the duck exchange." John's eyebrows knit together. "Which really doesn't explain how they got me so wrong...."

"But... John, what _is_ this?"

"It's tumblr!"

"Well yes, but... I don't... why?"

"Why not? You should see some of the other responses. I just reblogged these ones because they were like, fairly tame and appropriate for an official social media channel. There's like, epic purple harlequin romance and someone else took basically all of our tweets and turned them into erotic fanfiction and - "

"Erotic... what??"

"Fanfiction. It's quite inventive, really."

"And seventy-two thousand people liked it?"

"Well, the various bits that belong to the thread. There was a rather long argument about what gender our restaurants should be and if restaurants should even be gendered and I think that got derailed into whether gender as a social construct should even exist in the first place. People kind of get carried away with things on tumblr. And make things extra ridiculous and or gay."

"I'll say." Daniel handed the phone back to him, blinking. "I'm still not sure I understand."

"I don't usually understand either," John replied with a shrug and a smile. Then he leaned in to press a kiss to his lips, lowering his voice. "You know, after I get off work I could do a dramatic reading of our erotic tweet fanfiction."

Daniel groaned. "Or I could assume that I've gained three more twitter followers and do my best to suck your brains out through your cock."

"Mmmmm." John's hands slipped down to give his ass a playful squeeze. "Or that.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years Eve doesn't exactly go as planned.

"Will you come by tonight, after you close up?" 

Larry had taken to meeting Ben outside in the morning when he brought over the coffee, in the seclusion of the restaurant's kitchen entrance. It was chilly, but Ben appreciated the short time alone, to stand close to him and talk while they sipped their coffee. He'd felt a little awkward at first, the morning after they'd kissed, and half fearful that Larry somehow wouldn't want to see him. But Larry had given him the softest, sweetest smile as their eyes met, and the warmth it had awoken in him had put a damper on his anxieties. So he'd handed Larry his espresso, then stepped in close to him, finding Larry's free hand with his own and twining their fingers together.

He gave Larry's hand a squeeze now. "Won't you be busy?"

"Most likely." Usually Experimental closed their kitchen at midnight and ran nothing but bar snacks until close, but New Year's Eve was all hands on deck full service. Larry glanced down, worrying his bottom lip. Ben couldn't help but think about how good it had felt to kiss him and how much he wanted to again. But it would be unfair of him to start down that path when he wasn't sure whether or not he could continue. It took him a second to pull his thoughts back to Larry's words. "I'd just really like to see you for the count down."

He looked so uncertainly hopeful that Ben couldn't imagine not agreeing. He smiled, giving Larry's hand another squeeze. "I'd really like that, too."

Even with the jubilant, lingering diners that night, they managed to close up the restaurant and finish end of day by quarter after eleven. His staff were in good spirits and disappeared quickly, certainly off to their own new years plans. He was surprised when May appeared from the staff washroom in leggings and a low cut, red sequined tunic top. Her makeup was fresh and glamorous. She gave Ben a smile, pulling on her coat. "Ready to go?"

Ben stared at her. "What? Where?"

"Experimental. You're going, right? Daniel told me I should come over and have a drink with them for countdown." She stopped at the top of the back stairs. "Coming?"

"Ah... sure?" Ben followed her, feeling awkward. He'd known Daniel was going to be at Experimental, of course. But his younger brother certainly wouldn't leave John's side at the bar, not for long. And while Ben knew it was quite possible that Larry's kitchen staff probably suspected they were something more than simply friends, he wasn't sure if he wanted his Sous Chef involved. Thankfully, once he'd brought her in through the kitchen entrance, May slipped out of her coat and disappeared into the packed restaurant.

The kitchen was just as busy as the restaurant. Larry was expediting, four plates in progress in front of him, the window full of tickets. He glanced to Ben and gave him a nod before turning towards the kitchen. "Monty, I need two ceviche! Where's that avocado tempura?"

Ben watched Larry's newest line chef pull a basket of something overcooked out of the fryer. "Coming up, chef - oh, shit!"

"I don't need shit, I need tempura!"

"I'm sorry, Chef!"

Ben threw his jacket up on the hooks by the door, grabbing a spare white jacket and pulling it on, washing his hands at the sink. "I'll take the fryer, son. Get that ceviche to the window."

"Ben?" Larry shot a look back to him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Helping you get caught up before countdown." A fry station was a fry station - it only took a moment to find the bin full of sliced avocado. He knocked the overcooked pieces into the garbage and set the basket on the counter. "Lar, which breading?"

"The batter and panko on the right. Ten pieces per order. The seasoning on the left is for the duck. I'm waiting on three orders of that, should be in the fryer."

"Got it." Ben pulled the basket out of the sizzling oil, relieved to find the contents the proper shade of golden brown. He tossed it as he added seasonings. "Three orders of duck coming to the window, chef."

Larry caught his wrist. "You shouldn't be working my fryer."

"You can make it up to me later." Ben patted his hand, then pulled it off his wrist. "Gotta batter some tempura."

With Monty freed up to focus on cold and salads, and Becker helping Sarah on sautee, they managed to completely clear up the backlog of tickets by five minutes to midnight. Larry let out an audible sigh of relief and motioned towards the large fridges at the back of the restaurant before grabbing a rack of freshly washed glassware from the dishwasher. "Hils, grab the champagne. Let's get these corks popped for midnight."

Ben stepped back out of the way, hanging up the borrowed jacket. A few minutes later Larry was pushing a wine glass full of Champagne into his hand, then lifting his own. From in the restaurant he could hear the volume on the house music lower, then the DJ on the mic, calling over the crowd - or was that John? - "Five, four, three, two, one... Happy New Year!"

He added his glass to the throng, clinking it to the others, taking a large swallow of the tart, fizzy drink. Then he set it aside, took hold of Larry's wrist and quietly tugged him out the kitchen door and into the night.

Larry looked uncertain as he turned to him. "Ben...."

Ben reached up to stroke his fingers along his cheek. "Happy New Year, Lar," he murmured, and leaned up to bring their mouths together.

Even with the noise from inside he could hear Larry's soft whimper, feel the shudder that ran through him as Ben pulled him closer. His lips parted eagerly against him, fingers digging into the small of Ben's back, and that eagerness amplified his own desire tenfold. In moments he had Larry pressed back against the wall of the building, fingers tangled in his hair, kissing him as if to steal every breath from his body.

There was part of him that registered how different this was, to be arching up to kiss him instead of down, the strong solidity of his body and the rasp of his skin beyond the lushness of his lips. But it was a strangeness easily eclipsed by the knowledge that this was _Larry_ , by the aching adoration he felt for the man. The need to be close to him.

"Come home with me tonight," he murmured as he finally broke from his lips.

Larry let out a soft, shivering breath, and nodded. "Okay."

He seemed uncertain, though, so Ben cupped his cheek gently. "If you don't want to...."

"I do," Larry replied quickly, though his eyebrows knit together as he met his gaze. "If you're sure."

Ben nodded, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. "I am. I wanna be with you."

"Okay." Larry took another deep breath, then smiled. He leaned in to return his soft kiss. "Go have a drink with your brother, okay? We'll leave once I can get things shut down. And... thanks for the help in there. You really didn't have to, working a fry station is so beneath you - "

"Hush." Ben cut him off with a kiss, his smile warmer. "Not beneath me to help someone I care about."

"Still... thank you." Was it his imagination, or did Larry seem overwhelmed? His friend smiled, draining the rest of his champagne, and took him inside.

* * *

Kissing Ben at midnight had been overwhelming enough, Larry thought as he threw himself back into service. Let alone... let alone....

Maybe he'd be too drunk to remember his invitation by the time that they closed, Larry thought. Or maybe he'd change his mind. It wasn't that he didn't want to go home with Ben, of course. Quite the opposite - even just remembering the way Ben had pushed him up against the wall and kissed him left him feeling weak in the knees and aching for more. But he couldn't help but worry that this was too much, too fast. That this wasn't the right thing for Ben, despite his claims of certainty.

The serving staff put in the last few food tickets just before one, and they set to clean up, loading what seemed like countless dish racks from bus trays, dumping far too much abandoned alcohol down the sink. But it had been busy - business should be good.

Finally Becker caught his shoulder. "Go home, boss. I'll close up."

"But...."

"Lar." He gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You deserve a break. I've got this. I insist."

Larry smiled, and nodded. "Thanks." Now all he had to do was find Ben.

The bottom floor of the restaurant was thankfully no longer shoulder-to-shoulder, patrons clearing out to call Ubers or try and flag a taxi. There was a blonde girl behind the bar with Anna pouring glasses of champagne for patrons, who he recognized after a moment as being Ben's sous chef. Larry decided not to question it. Maybe everyone at La Pâquerette was a workaholic.

He found Ben with Daniel at John's end of the bar, finishing a glass of champagne. "Becker's going to close up. You still want to take off?"

Ben, surprisingly, pulled him into a warm, open-mouthed kiss in answer. His lips were sweet tart with champagne, and Larry couldn't help but wonder how much he'd had to drink. "Yeah," he replied, voice husky, then slid off the stool and winked at his brother. "See you tomorrow, _liebling_."

Daniel's smile was perfectly bland. "Goodnight."

Once outside, Larry resisted the urge to ask again if he was sure. "I'll drive?"

"Thanks. I don't think I should." Ben smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sliding into the passenger's seat of his car. He caught Larry's hand as he drove, lacing their fingers together, then lifting it to his lips, nuzzling his skin and placing soft kisses to his knuckles. The sweetness of it made Larry's heart ache with longing, but he couldn't help but worry, and when he finally pulled into the parking spot Ben directed him to he couldn't help but turn into his friend.

"Ben..." Are we moving too fast, he wanted to ask. "Are you sure about this? If you just need to crash, I can go home. You've had a few drinks...."

Ben's fingers were warm on his cheek, his smile soft. "And I was perfectly sober when I invited you over. Lar, I want this. Trust me."

Larry found himself wishing that _he'd_ had a few drinks, but he nodded, and let Ben pull him into another kiss, then take him into the building and upstairs.

His apartment was a small, vaulted ceiling third floor studio that had obviously been recently refurbished into a stylish micro loft, all clean lines and quiet, muted colours. It helped calm his nerves, and by the time Ben had tugged him up the stairs to the loft bedroom he was able to push his worries aside. He'd wanted this since the moment he'd seen Ben sitting at his bar. And from the way Ben was kissing him - hard, demanding, as if to push every thought out of his mind - he certainly wanted it, too.

Ben pushed him down to sit on the end of the bed, half kneeling over him as he unbuttoned Larry's shirt, running his palms over his chest as he started to kiss along his jaw. "Fuck, Lar... drive me so crazy, you have no idea...."

"Me?" Larry gave a soft laugh, breath catching on a whimper as Ben nipped lightly at his neck. He couldn't help but fill his hands with the warmth of his friend's body, stroking hips hands up the back of strong thighs and over his ass then up his back. He slid his hands up the back of his shirt, groaning at the warmth of his skin and the flex of his muscles under his fingers."Oh fuck, Ben. Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?"

"Yeah?" Ben pulled back, expression briefly astonished before kissing him again. His voice lowered. "That's really nice to hear."

"You're perfect," Larry murmured, running his hands up Ben's stomach as he pulled his shirt off over his head. He could just feel the lines of his abs, and gave a low moan. "Oh god, really perfect."

Ben pushed his shirt off his shoulders, then urged Larry back onto the bed, laying half over him, groaning into his mouth as he kissed him. The press of his hips was too intoxicating, and Larry felt his own stutter up against him before he could stop himself, fingers digging into the small of Ben's back. He caught himself at Ben's sharp gasp, trying to pull away. "I'm sorry - "

"Sorry?" Ben pressed a thigh between his and brought their hips together deliberately. He sucked Larry's bottom lip between his with a groan, rolling his hips against him. "Oh god. Don't apologize. It's so fucking hot, Lar...."

Larry rocked back up against him, exhaling in a soft whine. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this overwhelmingly hard, let alone with his pants still on. "Jesus Christ...."

Ben pushed a hand between them to cup his erection, breath a low, almost incredulous groan. "Fuck..." he breathed, then started tugging at the closure of his jeans and pulling them down, pressing breathless kisses to his throat. He gave a soft whine as his fingers finally curled around Larry's cock. "Oh fuck, Lar, make me so fucking hard...."

It seemed somehow absurd for him to be saying that when Larry was so achingly hard himself that all wanted to do was fuck up into his fist until he came, but he felt like he could barely think, let alone express that in a sentence. Instead he twisted to catch Ben's mouth again, pulling his slacks undone, wrapping his hand around the thick girth of what proved to be an impressively long, hard cock. "Oh my god, Ben."

Ben's breath was a shaky exhalation against his mouth, hips canting into his touch. "So good," he gasped, whining as Larry drew his thumb over the head of his cock, slick with precum. "Fuck, Lar...!"

"Anything you want," Larry found himself saying, biting back what he really wanted. It was hard not to think about Ben pinning him to the bed and taking him, fucking into him hard and fast with that incredible cock. He wanted to beg for it, and had to bite his own lip to cling to propriety. "Tell me what you want?"

"Oh fuck, I...." Ben's breath came ragged against his jaw, teeth scraping the side of his neck as his fingers began to work his cock more firmly. "Just need to be close to you," 

Larry managed to shimmy his jeans down enough to kick them off, pushing Ben's down off his hips, then encouraging him between his thighs. "Like this," he murmured, groaning as Ben gave a firm thrust against his stomach, cock sliding against his own. He wrapped one thigh up over his hips, arching up against him, encouraging more. "Oh god...."

"Fuck, Lar...!" Ben gave a harder thrust against him, quickly falling into rhythm with him. He pressed his face to his neck, groaning as he sucked and nipped at his skin, biting down harder at the crook of his neck. Before Larry could think he was bucking up against him frantically, fingers tangled in Ben's hair and digging into his back to encourage more. The grind of Ben's hips was exquisite, and in moments he was coming undone underneath him. He heard Ben give a breathless, almost triumphant cry, cock sliding slick with Larry's seed as he gave a few more desperate thrusts against him and joined him, crying out against his neck.

He hadn't had sex with someone like this since high school, Larry couldn't help but think. It brought back too many awkward memories of difficult mornings-after with newly-minted baby gays that were hard to push away. He told himself firmly that there was no reason to panic. Of course Ben wasn't going to freak out like that. But maybe there was some wisdom in giving Ben space to let what they'd done sink in without the pressure of having to take care of him....

He caught Ben's mouth in a long, slow kiss, relaxing a little against him and drinking in Ben's low, appreciative hum. Then he ran his fingers through his friends hair. "Mmmm... you're incredible."

" _You're_ incredible," Ben echoed, voice low and warm, kissing him again. "Mmm... thanks for coming home with me....."

"My pleasure...." Larry returned his kiss, trying to push away his worries. "I can't stay, though. Have things to do in the morning."

"... what?" Ben looked almost hurt as he looked down on him, and Larry forced himself to smile, kissing him again.

"This was really, really good," he murmured, trying to reassure him. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"I don't mind getting up early if you have errands...." Ben's eyebrows knit together. His voice softened. "Please stay."

He seemed so intent that it made Larry's heart ache, but at the same time he couldn't push away the quickly building panic at the thought of staying and having to watch things turn bad. He swallowed hard, struggling to keep smiling. "I can't. I'm sorry. Another time, Ben. I promise."

Ben swallowed hard, then looked away, giving a small, terse nod.

He was silent as Larry dressed and left.

Back in his car, Larry couldn't stop his hands from shaking no matter how tightly he gripped the wheel. Even though he hadn't had one in almost a year, he swung into a convenience store parking lot and bought a pack of cigarettes, smoking two in rapid succession. It made his head spin and didn't particularly calm his nerves, though it did seem to help his hands stop shaking. He couldn't help but feel like he'd just made an unforgivable mistake. But at the same time, how much worse would it have been if he'd stayed?

Hearing low voices and soft laughter coming from John's room when he got home only made him feel worse. He slept fitfully, finally giving up and getting out of bed as the sun began to rise, pulling on his housecoat and stepping out onto the balcony to smoke another cigarette.

He'd just lit a second when he heard the balcony door slide open behind him. John joined him a few minutes later in a t-shirt and boxers, seemingly unconcerned about the cold. "You're home early," he said softly, resting a hand over Larry's where it sat on the balcony railing. "Everything okay....?"

Larry took another drag and let it out in a shaky exhale. "I'm in love with a goddamn straight man," he muttered, feeling panic rise. "I shouldn't have gone home with him. Fuck."

John's eyebrows knit together, worried. "What happened?"

"I..." Larry shook his head, took another drag of the cigarette. "We had sex, I panicked, I came home. I pushed things too fast, John, I couldn't know how he'd feel, I - "

Then he heard a soft, pained groan behind him.

He turned to find Daniel standing at the balcony door dressed in John's bathroom, watching him sleepily. Larry sucked a sharp breath, heart pounding, feeling his whole body burn hot with embarrassment. "Shit. Shit. Aren't you at work? Fuck, I didn't - "

"Hush," Daniel murmured, stepping out onto the balcony. Larry felt a shock of surprise as the man cuddled up against his side, pulling John's arms around him as well. "Take a deep breath. I'm not mad. You're hyperventilating."

Larry forced himself to close his eyes, counting silently as he intentionally slowed his breath. Finally the world felt a little more steady. He let out a long sigh. "... I fucked it up, didn't I?"

"You didn't fuck it up." Daniel sighed, looking up at him. "You panicked. But you need to tell him that, or he's going to take this really personally."

Larry grit his jaw on a rush of despair. "I think it might be too late for that."

"It's not too late," Daniel said again, a slight tone of annoyance creeping into his voice. "But you have to talk to him, Larry. _Tell him how you feel._ Okay?"

"But if he doesn't feel the same way - "

"Larry. Listen to me." Daniel caught the side of his face, forcing his gaze to him. "Ben loves you. He wouldn't have acted if he didn't. Trust me. The fact that you're a man literally does not matter to him, he's not going to have some moment of gay panic. He. Loves. You. Talk to him."

Larry swallowed hard, and nodded. "Okay. Okay. I just... I'm gonna go for a run. I need to clear my head."

He pushed himself hard that morning as he ran across the Golden Gate Bridge, until his lungs and his legs were burning, the cold December breeze off the ocean making his eyes water. He finished his regular route far too quickly for his liking and turned to run it again. He ran out of water halfway across the bridge, and his calf cramped badly at the other end, leaving him to limp his way painfully back across. Maybe he deserved it, he thought as he slowly made his way down the stairs on the cliff and along the water to where he'd left his car, stopping every few paces to try and massage out the cramp. And somehow the pain still wasn't stronger than the looming panic he felt at needing to talk to Ben.

John and Daniel were gone when he got back to the apartment, thank god, leaving him to shower in peace. He didn't talk much to anyone at the restaurant as they started to prep, but hopefully most of his staff were hungover and would assume him the same.

Finally he heard a light knock on the outside door, and turned to find Ben looking in. He joined him outside quickly, words falling from his lips before he'd even had a chance to greet him. "Ben, I'm so sorry about last night. I shouldn't have left. I was just worried that we were moving too fast, that it was too much, and I panicked, I - I'm so sorry...."

Ben nodded, expression unreadable, and pressed the mug of coffee into his hand. Larry suddenly realized he hadn't brought one for himself and felt his heart drop down to his toes.

"We have a busy brunch," Ben said softly, not quite looking at him. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Larry felt his throat close over, and had to swallow hard to force out a reply. "Okay," he said, and watched him leave, heart aching to call out to him and knowing he didn't deserve to.

Daniel was wrong, he thought as he went back inside, eyes burning. 

He'd fucked it up.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

He didn't see Ben for the rest of the day, or on Saturday. By the time Sunday morning rolled around, Larry felt numb with the realization that it was over, focusing on his work with silent exactness just because the thought of having to do anything else was too much to bear. John had tried to bring up the subject briefly that morning, and he'd had lashed out at his friend with an unnecessary fury that immediately shocked him.

"I'm sorry - " he started, and John just shook his head sadly.

"No. I'm sorry. Forget I mentioned it." His best friend had been silent for the rest of the drive to work, then disappeared behind the bar. Larry buried himself in prep for brunch, then opening the restaurant. 

He'd gone to the cellar to bring up a new bag of potatoes when he heard the blare of the fire alarm, and felt his heart drop in his chest. Dropping the potatoes and running upstairs, he found Becker directing the handheld extinguisher at the mountain of flames erupting from the deep-fryer, the fire shuddering after a moment, then dying. But as soon as he stopped it sparked up again in a roar, spreading across to the grill.

"Where the fuck is the suppression system?!" Becker yelled, and Larry pushed past him, lifting his arm to shield his face against the intense heat of the smoke. He managed to yank open the door to the system on the wall, the metal scorchingly hot under his fingers, and pulled hard on the manual switch.

Behind him, something gave way with a mighty crash. The suppression system, however, finally turned on, showering chemical foam down over every hot appliance in the kitchen. Finally the flames flickered and died, leaving clouds of smoking foam blanketing over the appliance tops. The shelves immediately in front of the fryer had cracked under the intensity of the heat, spilling ceramic dinnerware to smash against the tile floor. The ceiling around the hood fan was blackened with smoke.

Panting, Becker dropped the fire extinguisher on the floor with a loud clang, then grabbed Larry’s arm, pushing him towards the back exit and out of the lingering smoke.

Larry let him guide him, trembling with adrenaline even as the panic of what had happened set in. As they stepped out the door he could hear the wail of sirens, getting closer. "Did everyone get out?"

Becker nodded. "I think so. The kitchen staff did. Haven't been out in dining, but I don't think the smoke got out there."

"Thank god." A kitchen fire was bad enough, let alone if the patrons - 

Let alone? What was he thinking? He'd be down for weeks with this, waiting for inspections, insurance, assessments, new equipment - weeks where the restaurant wouldn't earn a penny, weeks where he couldn't pay his staff - 

Larry's throat closed on a fit of coughing, and even when he managed to catch his breath, he was still shaking.

"Hils... I think we're done for."

* * *

Daniel found Ben in the kitchen when he came into the restaurant Sunday morning, the main dining room just starting to buzz with brunch customers. Ben didn't look up as he entered, focused on calling tickets and plating. Daniel stepped close to him, voice low. "You need to go talk to Larry."

Ben didn't turn away from the beef carpaccio he was plating. "I don't want to talk about this, _liebling_."

"I know you don't want to. But you need to."

Ben sent him a glare. "I'm not talking about this in front of my staff."

"Then where, Ben? You've been avoiding me, you won't answer my phone calls - "

"Daniel!" Ben slammed a hand down on the counter hard enough that the plates rattled, but when he looked over Daniel was surprised to see tears in his eyes. His brother's voice broke as he spoke. "Later. Okay? Once May's in. Let me finish service. Please."

The emotion caught Daniel off guard. He nodded, taking a step back. "Okay. Sorry." Then he stepped back into Ben's office, pushing up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose against the headache forming behind his eyes.

Spending his Sunday trying to fix his brother's relationship when the man was too stubborn to do it himself was not his idea of a restful weekend. He settled down at his brother's desk to wait, pulling open the design file for their valentines menu and starting to work.

Half an hour later, a text message from John buzzed through on his phone.

_"Kitchen fire. Lar's in rough shape. Can you come help?"_

Daniel felt a spike of panic, darting back into the kitchen. "Ben!"

"What?"

Wordlessly, Daniel held up his phone.

Ben's eyes narrowed slightly as he read. Then his face went white.

A split second later he reacted. "Spence, plate and expedite. Morgan, call May and Emily, see if they can come in early. Hold down the fort, I gotta go."

Then he was down the stairs and out the back before Daniel could say another word.

* * *

Everything after stepping out of the restaurant turned into a blur - the fire department's questions, being examined by the EMTs. Sitting at the back of the ambulance with Becker, oxygen masks strapped to their faces, things finally started to make a little more sense.

"The good news is that both of you were only exposed to the smoke for a few minutes," one of the EMTs said as she checked his vision, then pinched one of his fingers until it went white, giving a little satisfied nod as the blood quickly returned to it. "You're responding well to the oxygen, but we need to run some tests and keep you under observation for a couple hours. Alright?"

Larry nodded, then spotted John pushing his way through the crowd near the front of the building. "Just give me a few minutes to take care of things here," looking up at John as he approached. "Is everyone okay?"

John nodded. "Fire department's cleared the building, they're starting to let people back into main dining to get their things. Anna and Jenny got the servers together to talk to the customers."

"Thank god." His head server could always be counted on to keep her cool, in any situation.

One of the firefighters joined them, looking from Becker to Larry. "One of you the owner?" Larry raised his hand, and he nodded. "You guys are lucky. No structural damage, your suppression system got it under control once you got it on. You're gonna need some new appliances, new hood, and to replace some of the tile and drywall. As far as the cause, from what we can tell there may have been a malfunction with the temperature regulator on the fryer, we see wiring issues on a lot of this particular model. But we have to let you know that in this competitive industry there’s always a possibility of sabotage. Has there been anyone new in your kitchen over the past couple of days?"

He saw Becker look over at him sharply, but despite the chill that went down his spine, Larry shook his head. Ben would never. He had to believe that. “No.”

Then he turned his attention to John. "Once you can get back at the booking system, inform OpenTable and start calling the rest of the day's reservations. We can't let people show up to eat and get this, we can't - "

"Larry!" As if summoned, Ben shoved his way through the the crowd to them, frantic, winded like he’d sprinted the entire way from his restaurant. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly having to answer made everything far too much to handle, and the panic and despair he'd been feeling bubbled over. "No, I'm not okay! Ben, I have no kitchen! I'm going to have to close down for weeks and I won’t be able to make bank, I - "

Ben caught his arm. "Are you _hurt_?" He asked, voice shaking, and the fear he could hear stopped Larry short.

He swallowed, then shook his head. "No. I - I don't think so."

Ben closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh. "Oh thank god."

Larry nodded, looking back to John. "Call the reservations, apologize, tell them we're not sure when we'll be open again - "

"Wrong." Ben cut him off, looking at John. "You'll be open tomorrow. Go get me a copy of the current menu. Do you have access to the restaurant insurance information?"

John nodded as Larry stared up at both of them. "What?"

"Call your guys. If you can't get someone in today to assess the damage, call my restaurant, ask for Frank. Tell him what happened, He knows people. Then get the staff together. No-one talks about the extent of the damage to anyone. Official statement is that you'll be open tomorrow with a full service bar and a limited menu."

"Ben! What the hell are you doing?"

"Recovery. Lar, I've been through this before, I've been through worse. I’ll take care of this."

Seeing Ben again after the past few days of uncertain nothing set his head to spinning again, the certainty in his voice at odds with Larry's uncertainty about him. _I’ll take care of this_. How could he even want to, after everything that had happened? 

Suddenly his mind was whirling with a thousand fractured possibilities, and Larry found himself gasping, feeling like he couldn't get enough air. Would this have happened if he’d been paying more attention to his kitchen instead of thinking about Ben? And what about the possibility of sabotage? The faulty wiring on fryer, the fire suppression system.... Ben had considered him competition once. Maybe he still did. Was that why he’d panicked at the thought of staying the night with him, some subconscious realization of the truth? Was this whole thing was a ploy for Ben to get close to him, gain the confidence of his staff - 

“Lar…” Ben’s eyebrows were knit in concern. He reached out cautiously to touch his shoulder, but Larry yanked away, pulling the oxygen mask off and pushing past him, trying to get away. Halfway around the side of the ambulance the world spun, but before he hit the pavement he felt someone caught him, strong hands holding him steady, strong arms wrapping around him. Ben's voice. “Whoa, hey - “

“Let me go,” he gasped, trying to push away. “You’re not here to help. You have no reason to help me. I’m competition!”

His vision focused on Ben’s face in time to see a shock of hurt, and Ben released him suddenly. “Do you really feel that way? Lar… you’re my friend….”

Larry staggered backward a few steps until his back hit the cold solidity of the ambulance. He tried to focus on his breath, to stop the world from spinning. “Am I, Ben?”

Ben looked away, expression suddenly fraught with shame. His lips pursed tight. “I'm sorry I haven't been around. I know you wanted to talk. I know I over reacted, I….” He stepped closer, looking up at him pleadingly, voice low and desperate and rough with emotion. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not any good at this, I’ve failed everyone I ever loved and I never wanted to add you to that list, I never wanted to hurt you. I just… when you left….”

How could such obvious pain be fake? Larry's chest hurt like his heart had stopped beating, hurt more when he tried to draw a breath. “I...”

“I know I over-reacted about the other night,” Ben said again, holding his hands out helplessly. "I'm so sorry for that, I'm sorry I hurt you. If you want me to go, I’ll go. I just - when I heard something had happened, I - I thought something had happened to you, and I - “

Larry swallowed, reaching out to curl his fingers around his. “Ben….”

Ben’s hands trembled as they tightened on his. “I hate that I ever felt any kind of animosity towards you. I didn’t _know_ you, Lar! If you’re competition it’s only because you’re amazing at everything you do. How could I not fall in love with you? Please let me help. I don’t want anything in return. I just want you to be okay.”

Larry shook his head and held his hands tighter, throat tight. He had to force out the words, eyes burning. “I don’t deserve it. I left you….”

Ben gave a soft, helpless moan, pulling him close. "None of that matters. Just let me help you through this." His voice grew pleading, almost brittle. "Please, let me do this for you. Trust me. Please, Lar."

And that, Larry realized with a shock, was exactly where he'd gone wrong.

Ben had never been anything but up front with him, never done anything to make him unworthy of his trust. It was his own uncertainty that had made him run. His fear of being unworthy of this beautiful, talented man who’d never shown him anything but kindness.

He managed to nod, to swallow down the lump in his throat enough to force out words. "I do, Ben. I do trust you. I'm sorry, I... please stay."

“...yeah?” Ben's smile was soft and trembling.

Larry nodded again, blinking back tears. “Please stay with me. I need you. I….” He curled into him, closing his eyes to the cold and the soot, pressing his face to Ben’s hair. Letting the warmth of his body calm and reassure him. “...I’m so in love with you.”

He heard Ben draw a soft, shivering breath, letting go of his hands to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. “Oh... thank you, love.”

* * *

Larry watched Ben empty a garbage bin full of broken crockery over the edge of their back dumpster, setting it aside and grabbing the edge of the damaged hunk of drywall Larry was dragging out, helping him lift it into the bin. “Soon as we’re done demo you and I can do a market run for whatever essentials you're missing. Kitchen won’t be pretty, but the undamaged half will be clean and food safe for you guys to work in tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Larry said softly, again, and Ben just smiled, heading back inside.

Becker passed him on his way out, looking after him with a smile. Then he turned to Larry, gaze serious despite singed eyelashes. "Boss... I know it's none of my business, but... that man really loves you."

"... I know," Larry murmured, and felt warmth blossom inside him.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben contemplates a day off. John and Anna come up with some inventive ways to fundraise after the fire.

"Come home with me," Larry had murmured at the end of the longest day of his life. "Just... just to sleep. Please?" And Ben's answering smile had been almost heartbreakingly adoring as he drew Larry into a tight, brief hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Even if Larry had wanted more, they were both far too exhausted to do anything but strip down and crawl into bed. Larry thought he might have even been asleep before his head hit the pillow. So it took him a few seconds, when he awoke in the dim light of early morning, to make sense of why there was someone in his bed, cuddling close to his back, one arm wrapped around him.

Ben, he remembered and felt a soft rush of happiness.

He reached down to stroke a hand over Ben's and heard his lover give a soft, sleepy sounding hum. He felt the tease of Ben's breath on his shoulder as he nuzzled his skin. "... really nice to wake up with you...."

Larry gave a soft, happy hum in reply, tilting his head a little to encourage the nuzzle. He ran his fingertips over the back of Ben's hand and up his forearm. "...still seems a little bit surreal."

Ben pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck, his palm smoothing a little higher over his ribs. His voice was a low rumble against his skin. "I'm glad that it's real."

All he'd needed the night before had been Ben's presence, warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace. After a good night's rest, though, it was getting more and more difficult not to think carnally about the mostly naked man curled behind him. He closed his eyes with a soft, appreciative hum. "Ben.... when did you know?"

Ben's lips pressed another soft kiss to his skin. "Hmm?"

"That you... wanted this...."

"Mmm." Ben let out a long breath, fingers starting to stroke slow circles on his chest. "... I suppose it was a bit of a... gradual thing," he said slowly, breath a tease against his skin, followed by a soft kiss. "There was a moment of realization, of course, but it was really more like...." He pressed a warmer kiss to the back of Larry's neck, fingers circling down to stroke over his stomach, and Larry couldn't help but feel a shiver of desire. "The more I came to know you, the more I fell in love with you and the more I wanted you."

It was strange to hear when he'd gotten so used to meeting sexual partners through lurid invitations at the bar. Like something out of some grand romance. "... that sounds really nice," he murmured, and felt Ben's arm tighten around him.

"It feels nice," he replied softly, then nestled a kiss into the crook of his neck. "So does this."

Larry felt a wave of regret. "I'm so sorry I left...."

"Shh. 's over now." Ben arched a little closer, chest pressing against his back. "Tell me when you knew."

Larry chuckled. "Nothing so romantic, I'm afraid."

"Doesn't need to be romantic." Ben's fingers dipped to stroke briefly, teasingly along the edge of his boxers, and Larry shivered under the caress.

"Well..." he started slowly, "I guess you could say I have two types of men.... pretty little twinks who like to get fucked... and strong, devastatingly handsome men who can throw me into bed and have their way with me...."

Ben made a low, interested sounding noise, sucking gently at his shoulder. His fingertips dipped under the waistband of his boxers. "You saying I'm your type?"

Larry bit back a soft moan, trying to resist the urge to wriggle back against him. "Oh god, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. And your smile, Ben, and your voice..." He chuckled, remembering. "That first night at my bar... I had to order more food so you wouldn't see how hard I was for you when I stood up."

He'd expected Ben to laugh; it was absurd. He didn't expect the way he groaned, low and somewhat helpless, kissing his shoulder more hungrily as his hand slipped down to palm Larry's cock through his boxers, drawing a sharp hiss as his fingers closed around his hard shaft.. "Fuck, you have no idea how much that does it for me," he breathed, arching closer, and Larry could feel the press of his cock against his ass.

Larry bit his lip on a whimper. "You do it for me," he murmured, and was rewarded by Ben's fingers slipping into his boxers, curling around his cock. "Oh god, Ben...."

Ben's breath was hot against his neck, a little ragged, fingers slowly teasing his cock. "Tell me what you want, love."

He gave a soft, helpless laugh. "Oh god. Everything. Anything you want Ben, I... oh....!"

Ben's fingers teased the underside of his cock, smoothing up over the tip, moaning as he encountered the slick of his precum and rubbing it over his skin. "That's not what I asked."

It was hard not to whine as Ben toyed with his cock, hips rocking slowly against his ass. It was hard not to think about how little there was between them, that hard, thick cock.... "Yeah, but I'm the experienced one."

"Exactly." Ben nipped at the side of his neck, voice lower. Husky. "Tell me what you want."

Larry bit his lip, reaching back to stroke a hand over Ben's hip and pull him closer, intentionally rolling his hips back against him. "... you," he breathed, and felt Ben's hips buck against his ass, grinding deliberately, his breath coming heavy.

"Can I fuck you?"

"Oh god yes, please...." it would have been embarrassing how needy he sounded if Ben hadn't groaned, helpless and wanton, starting to tug at his boxers.

He could just reach the bedside table, grabbing supplies before helping Ben wriggle his boxers down, kicking out of them. Ben pulled his own off then pressed close, rocking against his ass, cock sliding thick and hard between his cheeks. "Oh fuck, Lar...."

"Please," he moaned again, pressing supplies against his hand. Ben took them, pulling back, and moments later Larry was surprised to feel slick fingers rub against his ass, stroking, carefully pressing up into him. His voice caught on a whine at the intrusion, pleasure crawling from the intrusion. "Oh fuck...."

"So tight..." Ben murmured against his skin, pumping his fingers slowly. He gave them a little twist, moaning at Larry's whimper. "God, you're so fucking hot...."

Larry couldn't remember the last time he'd been fucked, and while he knew he should appreciate the care, all he could think about was needing more. He bit his lip on a cry as Ben worked in another, fingering him a little more firmly. "Oh god Ben, please, fuck, please...."

His fingers eased away, and Larry heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper. "Like this?" he murmured, then Larry felt the slick head of his cock press against him. It made him feel almost desperately needy, and he pulled one thigh higher to spread himself open more while trying to wiggle back against him.

"Fuck yes, please, fuck, I - " His breath caught in his throat at the press of Ben's cock, his lover's arm tightening around his waist as he rocked against him, urging him open with small, insistent thrusts until his body finally stretched around the flared head of his cock. He couldn't help but whimper at the intensity, surprised when Ben just continued to rock slowly against him, giving him time to adjust.

Ben trailed slow, warm kisses up the back of his neck, fingers rubbing low circles on his stomach, finally cupping his cock, stroking him gently. "Feel so fucking good," he murmured, breath ragged. "If it's too much...."

"Oh fuck...." Larry reached back to grab his hip, rolling back against him and crying out at the rush of sensation. The thick girth of Ben's cock pressed against his sweet spot as he rocked deeper, and he couldn't help but buck back against him again, craving that intensity. "Don't stop."

Ben drew back for a slightly harder thrust, groaning breathlessly at Larry's cry. "Fuck, you're amazing," he gasped, repeating the motion, finding a slow, smooth rhythm, pressing deeper with every thrust.

It was hard to speak when each press of Ben's hips made him almost delirious with pleasure, pushing another breathless cry from his lips. His fingers dug into Ben's hip, overwhelmed by pleasure and still needing more. "Fuck, Ben - !"

"So fucking gratifying," Ben breathed, giving a harder thrust, echoing his cry. "Holy fuck, Lar...."

"It's because your cock is so fucking huge," Larry gasped, crying out as Ben's hips stuttered up into him in response. "Oh fuck yeah, god, harder, please - "

"Fuck...!" Ben pressed a breathless kids to the back of his neck, then eased away. "Hands and knees, love?"

"Oh god, yes." What Larry didn't expect was Ben to wrap himself around him once he'd moved, pressing a breathless kiss to his spine as he rocked back into him.

"So good being with you," he murmured, breath shuddering against his skin as he moved in him, hard and deep, somehow finding how to drive the sweetest, most insistent pleasure through him. In moments he was completely lost to it, voice in gasping, helpless cries, shuddering with the need to come but craving the bliss of this moment too much to give in.

Ben's hips snapped a little harder into him, ragged, fingers curling around his cock, letting his thrusts push him into his fingers. "Oh god, love, please," he gasped, rough with helpless urgency. He bucked deep into him, hips smacking, grinding against his ass, a hard rush of intensity that pushed him over the edge. He heard Ben give a desperate sob against his skin as orgasm overwhelmed him, jerking into him roughly a few more times, finally joining him.

He was almost too big to handle in the sensitivity of being post-orgasm, but Ben stayed close and still, fingers still cupping his cock to tease a few last shivers of sensation from him, slick with his seed. He pressed a trembling kiss to the crook of his neck. "God, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

Larry tried to bring his thoughts back in order. "....what?"

Ben's fingers stroked low on his stomach. "I was rough with you...."

Larry couldn't help but chuckle softly. "I told you what I liked. That was really good, Ben...."

"Yeah?" Ben pressed another kiss to his neck, then eased away, dropping another soft kiss to the small of his back as he did. He tugged Larry into his arms for a trembling kiss, and for a long moment all Larry could think of was being close to him, drinking in his kisses as his pulse slowed.

"Felt like I completely lost myself in you," Ben murmured against his lips. "God... I missed you so much...."

Larry managed a nod, letting out a shivering breath. "I'm sorry I'm so neurotic..."

Ben gave a low, disapproving noise and kissed him again. "Stop that."

"Sorry...." He lowered his eyes. "It's just a little overwhelming sometimes, being with you. I don't feel worthy. You're so gorgeous and so talented - "

"And you're also both of those things." Ben frowned, then pressed a firm kiss to his mouth. "Trust me. You're a world class, Michelin rated chef. I wouldn't have stuck around if that hadn't impressed me. And god, Lar, every time you smile....."

Larry felt the corners of his mouth twitch up, and Ben gave a low, appreciative hum, kissing him warmly. "See? I promise, you turn me on so much...."

"Kiss me like that and we'll never get out of bed," Larry murmured, to which Ben made a little interested noise, kissing him longer.

"Lar! You guys want eggs?"

Larry closed his eyes on a groan at the sound of John's voice, then looked up at Ben. "Your place next time? No roomies?"

"I don't know, I kind of like eating other people's food."

"You've never had John's eggs. There's a reason he only keeps bar for me." Larry smirked, then leaned in to kiss him again, lips softening, lingering. "Thank you. For staying, for yesterday, for... for everything, Ben."

Ben's smile was soft and adoring. "Just wanna do my best to do right for you," he murmured. "I love you."

Larry had to swallow down a lump of emotion. "I love you, too."

"Eggs or no eggs?" this time John pounded on the door. "Don't worry, Daniel's cooking!"

Ben glanced down at him. Larry shrugged. He raised his voice. "All right, we'll come out for eggs!"

It didn't take long to get cleaned up and dressed, but before Larry could open the door to his bedroom Ben caught his wrist, pulling him back into a warm embrace. "Lar... can you think about something for me?"

"Hm?"

Ben glanced away, wetting his lips. "Just thinking... other than Christmas, I haven't had a day off since my ex-wife left me, I.... " He stopped, reaching up to run his fingers along Larry's jaw. "I don't want to wait another year to spend a whole day with you. When things are settled at Experimental, do you think we could...."

The suggestion awoke an unexpected ache in his heart. Larry nodded, leaning in to kiss him. "I'd really like that, Ben."

* * *

Compared to the insanity of Sunday, Daniel couldn't help but feel like Monday was a breeze. When Ben had finally dragged Larry away from Experimental the night before, he'd rather hoped that his brother's protective nature would urge him to stay the night; waking up to proof of that had been very validating.

Even more validating was reading the text he'd received from Ben after his first appointment.

_"Holy shit Daniel. The sex. Wow. How did I not know?_

Daniel chuckled and resisted the urge to write an I Told You So. _"Glad you two were able to work things out."_ And not only so he didn't have to play relationship counsellor.

He spent the morning floating on a cloud of relief until he received a text from John, just as he was leaving the office.

_"I need your help with something. Can you come by, if you have time?"_

It can't be anything bad, he tried to tell himself. Facing another hardship on top of everything that had happened... he didn't want to contemplate it. And surely John would have told him if something was wrong....

Thankfully the restaurant seemed busy when he arrived. The sandwich board outside advertised John's newest concoction, a "fundraiser" cocktail he'd called "Fuck That Fire". What he didn't expect was to see May at the bar, seated with John's sister, the three of them talking as John mixed drinks.

He hadn't realized May had even known John and Anna until she'd shown up at New Years, slipping behind the bar and pressing a kiss to Anna's cheek before putting herself to work pouring champagne. He'd meant to ask her about it, but Ben's relationship issues had been rather distracting. He nodded at them and slid into the seat next to May. "What's this mystery thing you texted me about?"

John nodded to his sister as he poured the mix he'd been working on into a pair of martini glasses. "It's your baby, tell him."

"It's not exactly my baby," she replied, but still looked rather smug. "I have a friend from high school who's a photographer - mostly weddings, but she does some really nice boudoir shots, too. Lives in the area. When she heard about the fire she asked if we were doing any recovery fundraising, and I thought...."

"A sexy chef calendar," John interrupted, his grin almost feral. "You know, shirtless, cute lingerie on the girls. Odi's already volunteered to hold a strategically placed chef's hat, that little nudist."

"Two calendars," Anna corrected. "One female, one male. Because, you know, completely different target demographics. But the problem is that we'd have to get Larry in on it to actually make a go of it."

Daniel glanced to John. "That's a problem?"

"Two weeks ago it wouldn't have been. Lar's pretty liberal. But he's also staunchly faithful. He won't agree anything unless Ben's also involved. So, we were hoping...."

Daniel raised his eyebrows. "... you want me to talk my brother into posing naked for softcore porn."

"Just shirtless," May said quickly. "And I'll help. Her photos are really tasteful, very artsy. Anna, show him."

Anna clicked on her phone, swiping the screen a few times before handing it over to Daniel, a little smirk on her lips.

Tasteful and artsy the picture definitely was, though both May and Anna were dressed in sultry, vintage style lingerie. They also, apparently, were more than a _little_ familiar with each other. He nodded, handing the phone back to Anna, then looking to May. "How long have you two been an item?"

"You didn't know?" he heard John say behind him. May just smiled, cheeks dimpling.

"About a year."

"And Ben doesn't know?"

She shrugged. "He never asked. Probably not a concern now, right?"

"Hopefully." Daniel shook his head. "God, we're incestuous."

John smirked. "Kinky."

Daniel sighed, and slid off his stool. "I'll be right back," he said, stepping past a server and heading into the back.

They'd relocated some of the prep to the bus station on the other side of the kitchen window; not ideal, but necessary, since half of the kitchen has been completely sealed off with industrial plastic for the reconstruction. Things were cramped and awkward, but Larry's staff seemed to be coping.

Daniel cleared his throat, then raised his voice. "Pardon me, but I need to know if anyone _else_ in this establishment is dating someone on my brother's staff, so I can tell him everything all at once while he's in a good mood."

He heard Larry chuckle from in the kitchen. The rest of the staff glanced at him curiously, except for two, who slowly raised their hands: one of Larry's line chefs, and a girl who he thought might be his dessert chef. Daniel sighed. "Oh my god, we _are_ incestuous."

"Don't let John hear you say that," Becker remarked with a smirk.

Back at the bar, Daniel gave the others a nod. "All right, I'll help. What's our pitch?"

"A joint effort," May replied. "La Pâquerette helping her sister restaurant with recovery efforts."

John sent off another drink order, then joined them again. "Do you think you could get quotes from your printers for a calendar? As soon as we get photo proofs I'm gonna put up an IndieGoGo on the social channels, see how many we can pre-sell in a week. We'll sell some here too, of course, and the owner of Rock Hard in the Castro owes me - " 

"You're getting ahead of yourself, love." Daniel held up a hand to stop him with a soft laugh. "We haven't even asked the staff."

Anna shrugged. "Yeah, but we've have a pretty good idea of who'll say yes. And who else we'll ask if they don't." She handed Daniel her phone again.

Daniel choked out a laugh. "Frank? You're kidding. Frank barely takes off his suits to..." He glanced at John. "...shower."

John glanced over at him with a smirk, quirking an eyebrow. "Shame. That man's a DILF."

"That man gives amazing tuxedo," May purred. "Think about it. Get him in the wine cellar with his bow tie and a few buttons undone... maybe get Leon in there too...a little bit rumpled... tell me they've finally figured themselves out?"

Daniel shrugged. "Well, they've both stopped trying to pick me up in proxy, so I'm pretty sure they have."

"Good. Frank deserves someone nice."

John looked over at them with a grin. "So we're gonna do this, right? Should I get asking? We'll have to go to print soon, since we're already into January."

"We need to ask Ben, first," Daniel pointed out.

"Especially since we'll probably have to shoot some in our kitchen," May mused.

"Yeah...." chewing his bottom lip, Daniel pondered the matter, then nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll go now. I think I can talk him into it." He mimed a kiss in John's direction, then hopped down off his school. "I'll call and let you guys know how it goes."

May stood as well. "I'll walk over with you. Almost time to go to work."

"So," Daniel started as they made their way down the street. "Around a year, huh?"

May smiled again, cheeks dimpling. "We met at Pride. Didn't realize specifically _where_ she was bartending until I was already head over heels. Same as you and John, I think."

Daniel nodded. His mind was already going past the calendar, to thoughts of Valentines and the artwork John had shown him on tumblr that had looked remarkably like the girls. Valentines weekend didn't need any kind of promotion; Ben always did a set dinner menu and they'd been booked since last year for it. But the day _after_ Valentines... Ben had been talking about swapping kitchens, but maybe they could go one further and do a joint menu at both restaurants....

He was still deep in thought as he and May reached the restaurant, May cheerfully greeting the others and taking over Ben's station. Ben gave him a curious smile. "Mind still at work, _liebling_?"

"Oh - no, no. Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?"

"Sure?" They slipped into his office, and Ben settled in the chair behind his desk. As Daniel drew up another, he noticed the red Michelin guide sitting out on his brother's desk. "Not something bad, I hope?"

"Oh, no no. I think it could be really good, actually. May and I were talking to the bartenders this afternoon and discovered that it's more than just you and I and her who are dating Experimental employees, and people have really expressed a desire to help out with fire recovery...."

"Hang on... May?" Ben's eyebrows knit together. "I guess that explains New Year's. How long have you known?"

"I only just found out too, don't worry," Daniel assured him. He was getting a little creative with the truth in his pitch, he knew, but it wasn't _un_ true. "How would you feel about La Pâquerette participating in a fundraiser?"

"Oh, of course," Ben replied immediately. "Anyone who wants to. I fully support. You guys have any idea what you want to do?"

"We're pretty certain, actually. But we'd need your help for it. We were thinking... a sexy chef calendar."

Ben's eyebrows arched. "A what?"

"May and Anna already have a volunteer photographer lined up, she does boudoir shots. Very tasteful, Ben. High class erotica, definitely nothing that would jeopardize the reputation of La Pâquerette. We'll spin it as one of our gifts to our sister restaurant in their time of need."

Ben glanced away, considering for a moment then nodding slowly. "Sure. If you say it will be tasteful, I trust you. Anyone who wants to participate can. Though I'd like final approval. I suppose we'll need to use my kitchens?" 

"For some of it, yes. After hours, of course. The other thing is, though, um... John's quite certain that Larry won't participate unless you're in on it, and the two of you are kind of important so...."

Ben snorted, looking away. "Daniel, nobody wants to see me naked."

"Not naked! Just, you know, shirtless. Maybe with your jacket slung over one shoulder or something, I don't know. I do know you still work out. And knowing the number of gay men I know, you're going to be very popular...."

Ben shook his head again. "I don't know, Daniel...."

Daniel bit his lip, then carefully offered up his last card. "Well... you know if you and Larry both did it... you could probably get copies of all the pics from his shoot...."

He watched his brother's expression change, obviously imagining such a thing, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "...well... I suppose if Larry's game...."

"Yeah?" Daniel tried to keep the triumph out of his voice. "I'm sure he'd love to pose for you, Ben. I'll let John know that we're in."

Ben chuckled, reaching over to pat his hand. "You sure know how to convince a man." He leaned back in his chair, then nodded towards the guide on his desk. "You know... I was thinking this morning that I'd never actually read their review. Have you?"

Daniel nodded, and Ben gave a soft laugh.

"It's very complimentary, isn't it? Sometimes I can't help but feel like I was an idiot, to be so angry about it. Making up a rivalry that didn't even exist."

Daniel smiled, shrugging. "Do I get to say 'I told you so' now?"

"Maybe a little bit," Ben replied, running his thumb along the guide's pages. "It did get me over there, though. All that ridiculous stuff you started doing with John. My feelings of rivalry." He looked up at Daniel, eyes serious. "I never thought I'd be with someone again after Amy. Daniel, I...." he stopped, then smiled softly. "Thank you."

Daniel felt a soft wave of warmth at his brother's words, standing and leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "You've earned it, Ben."

* * *


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's lesbians that ends in lesbians.

Anna had been pleasantly surprised how many of her female coworkers and the girls from La Pâquerette had immediately agreed to pose for the calendar. She and May ended up committing to an extra calendar page of the two of them together, but beyond that every month had been claimed. They'd left it up to the ladies to wear what they wanted, with an open offer to help supply clothing or props if needed, but most had come with a wardrobe more than sufficient for their shoot. Even Sarah Page, Larry's normally modest Sautee chef, had shown up in full sexy schoolteacher, her white blouse unbuttoned over breasts far more lush and plump than Anna would have believed from seeing the woman in her work uniform.

"It's going really well, don't you think?" May murmured, coming up behind her.

Anna nodded, not looking away from the set. La Pâquerette's Pâtissier, Penelope "Cherry" Garcia, was perched on the counter of her station beside a huge tiered display of multicoloured pastries. She was wearing a bubblegum pink underbust corset and ruffled sky blue panties, her blonde hair half pulled up into a surprisingly elaborate coif around a fascinator made to look like a small birthday cake. Anna thought that the full-figured woman was surprisingly confident, considering the only thing covering her very ample breasts was a frilly white apron. She watched as Mallorie, her photographer friend, handed her a pair of linked cherries, arranging her to dangle one of the pieces of fruit between her lips.

"I'm having a lot of very inappropriate thoughts about our co-workers," she murmured, glancing back at May with a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

May slid her hands around Anna's waist, nuzzling her ear. "Oh don't worry, sugar, I'm so right there with you."

Suddenly Anna found herself very much wishing that she hadn't volunteered to supervise.

She forced herself to pull away from her girlfriend to help strike the set and get ready for the next shoot, letting Cherry direct her in putting away the display goods and trying not to think too much about the glimpse of the woman's dark, peaked nipples she could see through the apron. Finally Cherry went off to change, and she and May set out the large bowl of whipping cream and several empty cartons that had been the only thing Abby had asked for.

Anna found herself wondering what the other woman would be wearing. She'd seen Abby outside of work a couple of times, enough to know that her casual wardrobe was fairly goth. Maybe she'd wear something black and frilly to contrast her girlfriend's candy brightness?

Then she heard the tap of heels on tile, and beside her, May sucked in a sharp breath. "Holy shit."

Anna turned to find her coworker crossing the kitchen with astonishing grace, considering the already tall woman was wearing a pair of towering black patent leather spike heels. She'd gone full out Bettie Page in a tight-laced black leather corset, opera length gloves and seamed thigh high stockings, her black hair lose from its habitual pigtails to hang sleek down her back. Dramatic smokey eye makeup and red lips made her gray-green eyes even more striking than normal. The only thing similar to Cherry's outfit was a pair of frilly black panties, with garter straps attached to her stockings.

Anna gaped. "Did you buy this just for the shoot?"

"Oh god, no. I just raided my scene gear. It's not too fetishy, is it? I tried to tone things down. I really just wanted to make a joke about whipped cream." She held up a black riding crop with a grin.

"You make a great Bettie Page," May thankfully assured her before Anna had to figure out how to talk. "These shots'll be awesome." She tugged Anna off the set and back to the edge of the kitchen, watching over one of the prep tables as Mallorie started getting Abby into position, exclaiming over how gorgeous her look was.

Anna let out a long breath as she glanced up at her girlfriend. "I don't know if I want to do her or be her," she whispered, slightly incredulous.

May chuckled, low and appreciative, pressing against Anna's side and sliding her arms around her waist. "Both?"

"... maybe both," Anna admitted.

May gave a low, approving hum, smoothing her hand over Anna's hip. She traced slow circles on the top of one thigh, then slid her hand up under her skirt, teasing her through her underwear.

Anna's breath caught in her throat. "... what are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" May's voice was a low purr in her ear, barely audible over the noise of the radio. She stroked the length of two fingers along the crotch of her thong panties. "Mmm... you're so wet...."

"They're gonna know what you're doing," Anna hissed, but May only chuckled.

"Only if you don't keep quiet," she murmured, hooking her fingers in the elastic of her thong, tugging it aside so she could tease Anna's clit with her fingertips. "Trust me... they can barely see us with those lights on them... and the table's in the way...."

Anna knew she was right - with the fluorescent overhead lights turned off, the rest of the kitchen beyond the photo-lit pastry station was thrown into shadows. Still, it seemed risky, letting May touch her so intimately with the other women only a few yards away.

"We'll be fine," May murmured softly, pushing her fingers back more, sliding slick between the lips of her sex. May was right about that, too, she was ridiculously wet, inappropriately so considering she was supposed to be professional about this whole project. But it was becoming harder and harder to think professionally with May's fingers teasing her, with Abby posing and arching for the camera in front of her.

Anna bit her bottom lip and shifted just a little, spreading her legs.

"There we are," May murmured, and pressed the length of her fingers against her sex, rubbing slick from her clit and between her lips, teasing at penetration. It was incredibly unfair, Anna thought as she fought to keep her breath even, that May knew so well how to work and arouse her body. Completely unfair.

"Cherry says they scene together, you know," May murmured in her ear, and Anna nearly moaned at the thought. She spread her thighs more, trying to press into May's touch, and was rewarded when May finally pressed two fingers up inside her, fucking her in slow, smooth thrusts. "That's how they met. Half naked at a fetish party where Cherry was strapped to a spanking horse...."

"Oh fuck," Anna breathed. She gripped the edge of the counter in front of her with both hands, fighting the urge to fuck herself on May's fingers. May began to stroke her a little more firmly, the mound of her palm pressing against her clit with each thrust of her fingers.

It was all she could do to hold still and keep quiet as her girlfriend's clever fingers coaxed her body, pleasure singing from her touch. "Maybe we should go sometime," May murmured, breath hot against her ear. "You could wear your little black leather miniskirt, and I'll buy you a corset like Cherry's so your pretty breasts will be on display for me... so I can lean down and suck on your pretty little nipples whenever I want...."

Despite her efforts to keep still, Anna's hips bucked against her fingers. Whether or not she'd ever be able to do something like that was irrelevant; the thought of it was wildly arousing. Her body, so familiar with May's touch, ached with pleasure, eager for release. She bit her lip hard and tried to keep her breath even.

"You won't wear any underwear, of course," May murmured, fucking her more firmly, and her voice dropped, words more lurid and breathless.. "So that any time I want I can slip my hand under your skirt and touch you... put you over my knee and tease your pussy as I spank your ass.... tie you up in a sex swing and fuck your cunt with my tongue until you come - "

Anna bit down on her bottom lip as the world went white around her, orgasm a bright, hot shudder. May continued to tease her as she came, gentle, teasing caresses. If they were in bed Anna would grind up against her fingers and moan, tremble and beg until May made her come again. As it was she could barely control herself. Thankfully May decided to be merciful, easing her fingers away and tugging her thong back into place.

"Always wanted to fuck you at work." May sounded ridiculously pleased with herself. 

"I'm gonna fuck the hell out of you when we get home," Anna growled in return, as soon as she could breathe again.

May chuckled. "I'm counting on it." She pressed a kiss to Anna's jaw, then stepped away and disappeared into the staff bathroom.

In front of the lights, Abby was leaning forward against the end of the prep table, arms tilting the giant mixing bowl of whipped cream toward the camera. The riding crop was between her teeth, one heeled shoe kicked up playfully behind her. It seemed to be the shot Mallorie wanted, and she stepped forward to show Abby the screen of her camera, flipping through shots.

"Where's May?" Abby asked as Anna moved closer.

"Bathroom," she replied, relieved that the other woman obviously hadn't been paying attention to them.

"Okay. What do you think of the shots? Sexy enough?"

Sexy enough that my girlfriend just got me off, Anna thought, and keeps her smile carefully appropriate. "Abby, in that outfit you're going to set the whole damn calendar on fire."

* * *


End file.
